Part 3 (2/2)

*Mmm,' said the boy, discovering a sudden interest in the ants exploring stringy bark on the far side of the tree.

*I have some of the sand I told you about,' said s.h.i.+lly, putting the first of the vials into Thess's lap. *Put this in little Gil's shoes and the itching will go down in a couple of days.'

*Thank you. I -'

*And this one's for you.' The second vial contained a yellow powder that s.h.i.+fted smoothly, like a fluid. *Half a teaspoon in water every morning and I promise you'll notice the difference. I tried it last week, and -' She mimed an explosion of energy.

*s.h.i.+lly, thanks, but -'

*It's the least I can do. I know it's been a long haul for you.' She pressed Thess to take the vial. *I'd advise against taking this forever, but it'll help get you out of this rough patch.'

*I think I might already be out of it.' Thess dropped her voice. *That's actually why I called you.'

*Oh?' Thrown off giving the spiel she had memorised from Lodo's notes, s.h.i.+lly stared at her older friend, really looking at her for the first time. Gil wasn't the only one of the pair sporting a more cheerful demeanour. Understanding suddenly dawned. *Not that fisherman!'

Thess shushed her so Gil wouldn't overhear. *Yes.'

*What was his name? Boone? Boden?'

*Booth. Last night -' Thess's voice dropped even further in volume. *He stayed all night. I haven't woken up with a man beside me for an awfully long time. It felt good.'

s.h.i.+lly gripped her friend's hand. *I'm glad for you. I am, truly.'

Thess affected a measure of nonchalance. *Oh, things will be complicated. Gil doesn't know yet, and I don't know how he'll take it. His father's family, too, could be tricky. But I'm not doing this for them. It's for me, and I want it to work.'

*I'm sure it will.' Even if it lasted no more than one night, s.h.i.+lly would regard it as worthwhile. The glow surrounding Thess was palpable.

*Well, that's why I wanted to talk to you. Aunty Merinda gave me a tonic, but it's been giving me terrible headaches. She said that you might know something better, to keep any, um, awkwardnesses at bay, until I'm ready.'

Thess glanced at Gil, who was engrossed in the antics of a gecko he'd disturbed. Her meaning was obvious. Aunty Merinda, the local weather-worker and fortune-teller, was also the chief dispenser of contraception to Fundelry's womenfolk. She had taught s.h.i.+lly everything she needed to know long before Sal came to town, and provided valuable advice after the fact, when they had been two young people flung together by circ.u.mstances as well as by the bond growing between them. s.h.i.+lly had been glad for someone trustworthy to talk to, if nothing else.

*I think the headaches relate to the dose, not the substance itself,' she said, thinking carefully. She didn't feel entirely comfortable dispensing advice of this nature, when a single mistake could change the course of a person's life. But she was flattered that Aunty Merinda thought her capable of offering it. *I'll look into it tonight.'

*Thank you.'

*There could be a problem, though,' she went on, the words hard to come by because the notion was still so new to her. *Sal and I are leaving. I don't know how long for. You'll have to do without us. Can you tell the others?'

*Of course.' Thess examined her closely. *Is everything all right? You haven't been found, have you?'

*Oh, no,' she lied, hoping her uncertainty didn't show. *Everything's fine. We just need to help someone. It won't take long, I hope.'

Thess looked barely mollified. *We'll miss you. We've been spoilt, having you so close for so long. The town won't know what to do when your charms wear off and all our chimneys block again.'

s.h.i.+lly felt a rush of affection for her friend, and found herself spontaneously embracing her, clutching her as tightly as she would the mother she had never known. Thess's warmth was soothing, as was the rich, womanly smell of her. Strong hands gripped s.h.i.+lly's back; silence enfolded them, and she was somewhat rea.s.sured that all would be well.

On the way back to the workshop, s.h.i.+lly reflected that, although their packs might be light, she and Sal were rich in other ways. They had friends and accomplices all through the town; they helped out in myriad small ways, from purifying water to treating minor ailments; they were making progress in working out how they fitted into the world. They would be missed, just as she would miss her home.

The greatest treasure they owned lay in their heads and their hearts. Nothing could take that away from them, no matter where they went or what they did. Golems and ghosts had tried in the past, and failed; Highson Sparre's Homunculus - or whatever it was - would fare no better.

Later that night, when Tom had fallen into a heavy sleep broken by the occasional snore, Sal removed himself to a dark corner of the workshop and squatted on the earthen floor. Their evening meal - rabbit fried in local spices with a side dish of seeds and nuts marinated in honey, washed down with a gla.s.s of clear white wine that had been given to them a year ago by a grateful customer - roiled in his stomach like surf on the sands. He had to try something before giving in to his fate.

s.h.i.+lly had been busy all evening, rummaging through Lodo's recipes and old notes; some last-hour concoction, he presumed, that they would deliver when they set out the next morning. Even now she fussed and bothered among Lodo's tools.

Sal closed his eyes and blotted her out. She was still there, but he wasn't paying her any attention. He did the same to Tom and the rest of the workshop, until he was just a point of awareness floating in the blackness behind his eyes, breathing slowly and deeply.

When he had the rhythm right, he began to visualise.

He stood on the boundary between sea and land, but it was no ordinary beach. The sea glowed like the sun and the land was molten with power. The air crackled. He breathed deeply of it, and strength filled him. His skin felt as transparent as gla.s.s, as hot as a lantern left burning too long.

Highson Sparre, he called, where are you? He pictured his true father's face as he had last seen it: brooding eyes, broad features, skin as warm as dark honey. He took the lines of those features and bent them around a simple charm. The world was seeping into him with every breath. Wherever Highson was in the world, the charm would help him to know of it. He poured all his energy into the effort.

Highson, save me the trouble of leaving and answer me!

A fluttering of wings distracted him. The face dissolved. A burning bird with bones of charcoal circled him, trailing flames. A sea creature made of stone surfaced from the fiery ocean and landed with a crash. He irritably waved them away with a flex of his will. They were symbols: the sea of the Sky Wardens, so familiar to him in his everyday life but always a reminder of his fugitive status; the bedrock of the Stone Mages, who had sent him back to the Strand rather than shelter him from his enemies. That he routinely bypa.s.sed the usual teachings and went straight to the source, the borderland of stone and water, fire and air, proved that they were conventions only, and neither essential nor dangerous to cross.

They had, however, successfully distracted him. No matter how he tried, he couldn't quite rea.s.semble Highson's image. It eluded him. Or the charm refused to accept the image, and he could only think of one reason why this might be so: if his father was no longer in the world, then the charm would never work no matter how hard or often he tried.

A black sun rose over the burning sea, casting rays of darkness across the land. Burning bird and stone sea creature fled before a rolling hum that grew louder the longer Sal persisted. He knew that sound. He had heard it too many times to ever mistake it. It came from the Void Beneath, and it meant that he was trying too hard. He retreated immediately, unravelling the illusion as he went. The hum faded back into the ebb and flow of his breath, and the darkness of the black sun became the red-tinged oblivion of his closed eyes. The charm dissolved.

It was odd, then, that the feeling that he had been getting close to something remained. Not to his father, but to the tear that had opened in the world, somewhere ...

*No luck, huh?'

He opened his eyes to see s.h.i.+lly watching from a position directly in front of him. Time had flown.

The glowstones she had been working by were yellow and dim, almost depleted.

*No,' he said, unfolding his legs.

*Worth a try.'

He sighed. The thought of leaving made his insides tremble with both excitement and fear. And now he was tired, too. He should sleep. They would get precious little of it over the next few days.

*I keep remembering Larson Maiz,' he said. *How must it feel to die of fright? I don't want that to happen to anyone I know. To you.'

She reached out to cup his cheek. *We all die someday, Sal. Yesterday's people are tomorrow's ghosts. And we can't stay hidden here forever.'

*I know, but ...' He stopped, unable to find the words to express what he was feeling. *We'll have to be very careful.'

*Don't worry about me, Sayed,' she said. *Or yourself. I'll be so terrified nothing will get within a hundred metres of us without me noticing.'

Her face was just visible in the yellow warmth of fading glowstones. Her words did rea.s.sure him, even though he knew that, like himself, she had little idea of what they were heading into.

*I love you, Carah,' he said, knowing that she returned his love as fully as it was offered. Whatever happened, he could depend on that.

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