Heirn started violently and jumped up with a cry, knocking his chair over. The plate slithered to the edge of the table then tumbled off and broke noisily as it struck the floor.
‘Tricks!’ Heirn shouted angrily. ‘Damn you. I should’ve known.’ He levelled a fist at Atlon. ‘Out! Now! Do you think I’m a child? This is Arash-Felloren. You don’t trade here without meeting every conceivable piece of charlatan trickery sooner or later.’
Atlon looked up at him in considerable alarm. The smith’s menacing figure filled the entire room.
‘He thinks you’re throwing your voice,’ Dvolci hissed urgently.
Heirn made to move around the table to implement his command by force. Dvolci scrambled on to the table, stood on his hind legs, and let out a series of high-pitched and piercing whistles which made Heirn stagger and bring his hands to his ears in distress.
When he was satisfied that the intended assault had been abandoned, Dvolci stopped whistling.
‘Sit down, Heirn,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t speak earlier because since we left home, this is invariably the reaction we get when I do. I apologize if I startled you.’ A hint of irritation crept into his voice. ‘Though why you humans should consider yourselves the exclusive users of this particular language defies me. It’s not as if it’s a particularly good one. Horses don’t get upset when I talk to them in their language.’ He sighed. ‘Still, that’s the way it seems to be, so I’ve learned to hold my peace. Now please sit down, I’m getting a crick in my neck.’
Heirn glanced warily from Dvolci to Atlon several times.
‘Please,’ Dvolci repeated.
Slowly, and watching Dvolci intently, Heirn picked up his chair and sat down.
‘Thank you,’ Dvolci said, dropping back on to all fours.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Dvolci pushed the box towards Heirn and flicked it open. Heirn looked at the crystals sourly.
‘It’s not a new trick, you know,’ he said. Atlon frowned, puzzled. ‘They’re fakes, aren’t they? Imitations. You had me believing you for a minute. Let me guess. You were going to tell me they were part of your father’s collection and that you’d part with them for a hundredth of their value because you were in desperate need of money?’
Atlon looked down for a moment, unable to meet the accusation in Heirn’s eye. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I understand how you feel, and I’m sorry I’ve handled this in such a way as to make you think that. It’s just that I… we… are on our own in a city the like of which neither of us has ever seen before, and I’m gradually realizing that the task I’ve been given is perhaps beyond me.’ He leaned forward. ‘The crystals are genuine. They’re not my father’s but, in a manner of speaking, they do belong to my family. They’re not for sale at any price, and anyone who tried to steal them would soon find that he’d made a serious mistake. Crystals have the potential for doing harm beyond anything you can imagine, and I have to find out where they’re coming from. I want nothing from you except a little help to find work so that I can get money for food and lodging. But if I’ve offended you…’
Heirn tapped the box uncertainly.
‘Do as I said – tell him,’ Dvolci said firmly. ‘I trust him, and so does the horse. He’s as honest as we’re going to find, and everything’s led us to this city. From what we’ve heard, this must be the source. Insofar as we expected anything, we didn’t expect a place like this, and we can do nothing without someone to help us.’
Heirn was watching Dvolci closely. He crouched low, bringing his head level with the felci’s. ‘You really talk, don’t you?’
Dvolci stared back at him. Atlon cleared his throat warningly. ‘Yes,’ Dvolci said. ‘I do talk. And I scratch and shake myself and pick my teeth.’ He did each of these in turn, the last involving revealing his ferocious teeth and prying delicately between two of them with an equally ferocious-looking claw. ‘I also eat…’ He looked around then jumped off the table and picked up a piece of the broken plate. ‘Rocks, preferably, but this will do. May I?’
Without waiting for a reply he put the fragment in his mouth and began chewing it noisily and with great relish.
Heirn winced and sat back in his chair. He was beginning to look helpless.
‘Are you all right?’ Atlon asked.
Heirn nodded, very slowly. ‘I think so,’ he replied. ‘Though I wouldn’t be surprised if I woke up in a moment. Who are you?’
Atlon picked up the box and put it in his pocket. ‘I appreciate your caution, but let’s go back outside into the sunlight. I doubt anyone will be interested in two men talking on a bench, and I think you’ll feel much easier out there.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Heirn said unhappily. Then, host again, ‘But mind you keep your hand on that box.’
‘It’s perfectly safe,’ Atlon assured him.
On their way back through the forge, Heirn paused and spent a few minutes tending his furnace, anxious to have normality about him again. Before he returned to the bench he went to a basin in the corner and washed his face thoroughly. As he sat down, he offered Atlon his flask again. Atlon took it and thanked him.
‘I am sorry about startling you like that. But I’ve told you no lies. I am a teacher, I do have to find out about the crystal trade, and I do need work.’ He looked round at the busy square. ‘And we can walk away from you right now, if that’s what you want.’
Heirn followed his gaze. ‘You said that crystals are doing harm even in your country?’
‘No,’ Atlon replied. ‘I said they caused difficulties. There’ve been… incidents. We want to act now before they start doing real harm.’
‘What kind of incidents, and who are “we”?’
Atlon looked up at the grainy blue sky. ‘I belong to a group of scholars, an Order founded a long time ago and given the task of gathering knowledge against the day when an ancient enemy might return to this world.’
Heirn’s eyes were narrowing. Dvolci, lying on the bench beside him and resting his chin on the blacksmith’s lap, said, ‘Listen to him, Heirn. This is no child’s tale.’ Though his voice was soft, there was a quality in it that commanded the smith’s attention. ‘You yourself mentioned rumours of war in the north. Well, there was a war. Fought and finished several years ago, now. At least, we hope it’s finished. It happened because Atlon’s people, and others, let things become legend and tradition that should have been kept alive and real. And then the “legend” returned and many are dead and maimed now as a consequence. Because of that neglect, people are travelling far and wide, learning about the world that lies beyond their own realms, some searching for those who pledged alliance to the old enemy and led His army, others searching for signs of the corrosion that He might have secretly spread before He was discovered.’
Heirn shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Be patient,’ Dvolci said. ‘I live in the mountains, well away from people, if possible, and Atlon lives – or used to live – in a lush flat land where the towns and cities are full of low buildings and wide, wide streets, and where the people take a pride in caring for one another. So this tale’s no more bewildering for you than this city is for us.’
‘I’m doing my best,’ Heirn said, ‘but it’s not easy. A large part of me is saying, see these two off and get on with your work.’
Atlon looked back into the forge. ‘You say you use crystals to change the qualities of your iron?’
Heirn was thankful to be back on safer ground. ‘Not crystals like those in your box, or even such as a woman might have in a necklace or a ring,’ he said. ‘Just the very small ones – they’re like dust, almost. There are different mixtures. And you have to use them sparingly.’
‘Because they’re expensive?’
‘No, not really, though they’re not cheap, but if you use the wrong quantity – too much or too little – the iron will be spoiled.’
‘Why?’
Heirn’s mouth dropped open as he made to continue his explanation and could not. After a moment, he shrugged. ‘It’s just the way it is,’ he said. ‘Like the heating and the cooling, it has to be done a certain way, or it doesn’t work. The iron’ll be too brittle or too soft.’
Atlon jabbed again. ‘Why?’
Heirn’s reply was full of frustration. ‘I don’t know!’ he exclaimed. Then he stammered, ‘I… I just know these things. I learned them from my father and he from his before. And I’ve learned from others, and experimented…’
‘You wouldn’t say it was magic, then. Or trickery.’
Heirn became indignant. ‘No, of course not. It’s… it’s…’
‘The way it is,’ Atlon said.
Heirn let out a noisy breath. ‘Yes,’ he said, with finality. ‘What is it you want me to say? What kind of a question is it you’re asking?’
‘One I knew you couldn’t answer. It could have been any one of thousands. Why does a flower open in the morning and close at night? Why do the clouds change shape? Why rain, why snow, why wind?’
‘And why am I sitting here?’ Heirn made to stand up. Atlon laid a hand on his arm.
‘Please, bear with me,’ he said. ‘I need to make you understand. You know that many things are so, but not why, and it doesn’t trouble you. You’ve seen them all so many times that you take them for granted. But, imagine, if you didn’t know how to harden your iron, and if someone came along and added a little more than a pinch of crystal dust in the melting and then produced an edge that was hard and keen, what would you think?’
Heirn was still debating stepping back into the gloom of the forge, but a combination of his natural courtesy and Atlon’s earnestness held him there. ‘I’ve no idea,’ he said after a moment. Then, reluctantly, ‘I’d probably think it was a trick.’
‘Just like my crystals, or a talking felci, or this,’ Atlon said. ‘Look at that horseshoe.’ He pointed casually back into the forge. As Heirn turned, the horseshoe slid to the end of the long nail it was hung over, and clattered to the floor.
‘No!’ Dvolci hissed furiously.
‘No choice,’ Atlon retorted sharply. ‘He has to understand.’
Heirn’s head jerked from side to side as he intercepted this exchange and at the same time tried to keep watching the fallen shoe.
‘I did that,’ Atlon said, before he could speak. ‘It’s a skill as commonplace to me as tempering iron is to you. I know the how, but only a little of the why, save that it touches deep into the power that’s in all things. The power that can be harnessed and magnified with crystals and directed to great ill by anyone so inclined.’
Heirn was clenching his teeth, both curiosity and a growing alarm conspiring to stop him from walking away from these strange visitors. He was almost snarling when he spoke.
‘The flowers open every day. My edges are always true if I’ve done my work properly. Do it again.’
Two more horseshoes slid off the nail. Dvolci’s hair stood on end and he was baring his teeth. ‘Enough!’ he shouted.
Some of the passers-by, sensing a quarrel, turned to look at the trio. Dvolci clambered recklessly over Heirn’s knees and brought his face close to Atlon’s. Though he did not raise his voice again, his anger was unmistakable.
‘If there are people abusing the power around here, and there’s every indication that there are, they’ll probably be deranged, and certainly dangerous. Acting like this, you might as well have had our names called out for everyone to hear.’
Atlon flinched away from the felci’s outburst, then, scarcely less angry, snapped back, ‘I’m aware of that. But time and our money are slipping away from us and we need help. Half a day’s talking wouldn’t have convinced him a tenth as much as moving those shoes.’ Unable to hold Dvolci’s glare, he became defensive. ‘Besides, no one’s noticed anything. And who’s going to pick up a fleeting ripple in a crowd like this? I was going to show him a simple focus using a crystal, but that might have been less effective and even noisier.’
Dvolci’s manner softened slightly. ‘It was still reckless!’
‘All right! But…’
‘But nothing.’
Heirn stood up, tumbling Dvolci to the ground and effectively ending the dispute. He picked up the horseshoes and carefully examined the nail from which they had fallen, then he looked at Atlon.
‘I’m not doing it again,’ Atlon said, anticipating the request. ‘Dvolci’s right, it was risky – and it could draw attention to us. But it was the only way I could think of to get you used to the idea that some of us possess skills that you’d consider impossible. Then perhaps it might be easier for you to understand the nature of the enemy we fought and how dangerous His followers might still be.’
Heirn was absently sliding the horseshoes back and forth along the nail. Delicately he lifted one of them over the large round head as if testing its weight.
‘Why would you want me to know about this enemy of yours? And whose attention are you frightened of’?’ he asked.
The residue of Atlon and Dvolci’s argument vanished and they looked at one another uneasily.
‘Because He wasn’t just our enemy,’ Atlon said, stepping back into the forge. ‘He’s an enemy to every living thing. Had He defeated us – and He nearly did – you’d have known about Him by now. Your city would have been razed or enslaved. And you’d have been either in chains or making them.’
Heirn seemed inclined to disagree but did not speak.
‘And the people we’re afraid of?’ Atlon patted the pocket containing the box. ‘Anyone who has knowledge of the Power and who uses these. Probably your Kyrosdyn, from what we’ve heard. They do have strange powers, don’t they?’
‘So it’s said,’ Heirn replied tersely. ‘But supposing I accept this tale of yours – and it’s a wild one, you’ll admit – what’s the difference between you and them with your power and your crystals?’ He tapped the horseshoes, making them jangle.
Atlon stood silent for a long time, silhouetted against the bright clamour of the square beyond.
‘We use the Power very rarely,’ he said eventually, his voice low. ‘It offers always the easy path, and the end of that is invariably corruption and degradation. As for crystals, they magnify this manyfold; we use them even more rarely, and then only with great caution and after much deliberation.’ He paused. ‘But perhaps you’re right and there’s very little between myself and the Kyrosdyn if the truth be known.’ He turned and looked out at the square. ‘Born in this city, I might well have become one of them.’
Heirn stared at him intently. ‘That doesn’t answer my question though.’
‘I can’t,’ Atlon said, shaking his head. ‘You know the Kyrosdyn better than I do, and we’re just two bizarre strangers performing party tricks and talking wild tales, as you say.’
Heirn stopped fiddling with the horseshoes and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his apron. ‘I hope I’m not going to regret this, but I’ve spent most of my working life trusting my judgement about people, and I’ve been luckier than many I know. For all your foolish tales and tricks, you still don’t strike me as either mad or bad, and as you’ve not tried to get money out of me so far, I see no harm in listening to you at least.’ He indicated the bench again. As he walked past Atlon, he said confidentially, as though someone might be eavesdropping, ‘Besides, I’d no more trust a Kyrosdyn than I’d use the anvil for a boat.’
‘Smith!’
The harsh voice made both Heirn and Atlon start. Standing in the entrance was a robed and hooded figure. Dvolci drew in a hissing breath and quietly retreated behind a stack of rusty iron chains lying on the floor.
Heirn shot a glance at the figure, then, turning back to Atlon, reached up and began pointing to the rows of horseshoes hanging from the wall. ‘I’m sure you’ll find one that’ll suit your horse’s problem, sir,’ he said briskly. ‘Feel free to examine any of them, while I attend to this gentleman.’
As he approached the new arrival, he took the rag from his belt and wiped his hands on it as he had when he greeted Atlon. He positioned himself squarely in front of the man, obliging him to step back slightly, out into the street, and obscuring his view of the interior of the forge.
‘Yes, sir. What can I do for you?’ he said, folding his arms and standing very straight so that the newcomer had to look up at him.
The figure was not intimidated, however. ‘Has anything unusual just happened around here?’ The voice was that of someone used to commanding obedience.
Heirn craned forward slightly, peering into the hood. Atlon, watching from the corner of his eye as he pretended to be examining the horseshoes, noted that the figure seemed to lose some of its assurance.
‘Unusual, sir. What did you have in mind?’
There was clear impatience in the reply. ‘Unusual, man! Unusual! Out of the ordinary. Something that doesn’t normally happen, something you couldn’t explain.’
Heirn became bluff. ‘Well, sir, I’ve only to sit on my bench there and watch the square for a half a day and something unusual’s likely to happen. I’m sure if I sat there long enough I’d see as much of the world as any seasoned traveller – and not get saddle-sore into the bargain.’ He laughed loudly at his own joke but the figure only stiffened. ‘Then there’s you coming, sir. That’s unusual. Don’t get many Kyrosdyn Brothers stopping by, you not generally being horse riders. And as for things I can’t explain, they’re legion. Why do flowers open in the morning, why wind, why rain, why snow?’
The Kyrosdyn stepped past him angrily and strode up to Atlon.
‘And you – have you seen anything strange in the last few minutes?’ His manner was no different from that he had adopted with Heirn.
Atlon’s jaw tightened, but he continued looking at the horseshoes as he spoke. ‘You are a member of an Order of learning, aren’t you? A thinker, a searcher after knowledge and the great truths of the world?’
There was a pause before the reply, ‘Yes,’ emerged. It sounded forced, prised out by the unexpected question rather than given willingly.
Atlon nodded, but still kept on examining the horseshoes. ‘Then the only unusual thing I’ve seen recently is a member of a so-called learned Order addressing a respected craftsman and a complete stranger with an inexcusable lack of civility. Good day to you.’ He tapped one of the horseshoes and leaned forward around the Kyrosdyn to look at Heirn. ‘Blacksmith, when you’ve finished with this gentleman, I think I may have found what I need.’
Heirn’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Not because of Atlon’s abrupt dismissal of the Kyrosdyn, but because he was suddenly surrounded by a deep silence, and everything about him seemed to have been transformed into an unnatural but carefully arranged tableau: Atlon, smiling pleasantly, holding out the horseshoe to him, the Kyrosdyn, rigid and staring at where Atlon had been, and he himself, unable to move. He was sure that, had he been able to turn around, he would have found that the square behind him was no longer there. And the atmosphere in the forge was like that before a thunderstorm, with the motionless Kyrosdyn at its quivering heart.
Then, just as suddenly, it was gone, and the clamour of the square was washing over him like a surge of relief. Without speaking, the Kyrosdyn spun round and strode out of the forge, obliging Heirn to step quickly to one side to avoid him.
Dvolci emerged hurriedly from behind the chains and ran across to Atlon. ‘Make sure he’s gone,’ he shouted urgently to Heirn, then to Atlon, ‘Are you all right?’
Atlon was breathing heavily and rubbing his hands together. He nodded. ‘I think so, yes,’ he said shakily. ‘Did you feel it? I’m sorry about the trick with the horseshoes. I didn’t think for one minute that there’d be anyone who…’
‘It’s all right, it’s all right,’ Dvolci said, at once anxious and reassuring. ‘Neither did I really. And did I feel it? How could I not?’
Heirn interrupted them. ‘He’s gone. Stormed across the square straight as if I’d thrown him. People had to jump out of his way.’ He looked at Atlon. ‘What the devil happened?’
Atlon swayed and reached out to steady himself against the wall. ‘Help him, man,’ Dvolci cried angrily. ‘Get him out into the open air.’
Heirn draped a massive arm about Atlon’s shoulders and led him gently from the forge. He repeated his question as he sat him on the bench and crouched down in front of him, though this time his voice was full of concern. ‘What the devil happened? You look awful.’
Atlon closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. Colour gradually returned to his cheeks. He opened his eyes and scanned the square without moving his head. ‘He’s gone,’ he said to Dvolci. ‘And I can’t feel anyone else about.’ He drew a shaking hand across his forehead and looked at Heirn.
‘My little demonstration with the horseshoes was a mistake, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘I put you in danger. I’m sorry. I never thought…’ His voice faded and he shook his head.
‘There was no reason why you should,’ Dvolci said. He gave a violent shudder.
‘Areyou all right?’ Atlon asked.
Dvolci was dismissive. ‘Of course I am,’ he said. ‘It was just the thought of what all this means.’
Heirn interrupted with strained patience. ‘Will you please tell me what…’
‘Did you know the man?’ Atlon asked him.
‘No. They all dress more or less the same, and they usually keep their hoods well forward. And they have their own smiths for such work as they need. I did the odd thing for them when I was young, but they’re bad clients – argue your price down to next to nothing, then argue about your workmanship, then you have to wring your money out of them, drop by drop.’ He grimaced angrily as old memories returned.
‘Well, answering your previous question, if that man’s typical of the Kyrosdyn, then it’s them I’m afraid of. And much more so now than before.’ Atlon put his hand to his head. ‘I can hardly believe it.’
Heirn was about to speak again but Dvolci answered his question. ‘He nearly attacked Atlon with the Power,’ he said. ‘Right here, out in the open, with no regard for human flesh or the consequences. I’ve never seen such grotesque, such frightening, indiscipline.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Heirn said.
‘Yes, you do,’ Dvolci said. ‘I saw the hairs on your neck standing on end even from where I was.’
Heirn gritted his teeth and looked up and down the square uncomfortably before replying. He had to force the words out. ‘I just shivered, that’s all. You know – a goose walked over my grave.’
‘In this heat?’ Dvolci was derisive. ‘You were scared stiff. And rightly so, too.’ There was such force in his last remark that it stopped Heirn’s protest. ‘Think yourself lucky you were on the edges of it. And we can all thank those who taught Atlon that sometimes it’s better to receive than to give. I shudder to think what would have happened if you’d retaliated.’
Atlon tried to stand up then changed his mind. ‘There was nothing to retaliate against, fortunately,’ he said. ‘Otherwise I probably would have done. But he didn’t actually do anything. That was just a little fist-clenching. He wasn’t that undisciplined.’
Dvolci snorted. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he blasted. ‘He reached for the Power as if it were no more than scratching his backside. He must use it all the time, it’s appalling.’ One foreleg came up nervously. ‘Did you respond at all… even a little? Do you think he realized you had the skill too?’ His teeth chattered anxiously. ‘And what if they’re all that powerful?’
‘No, I didn’t respond, but more by good luck than anything else,’ Atlon replied. ‘And no, I don’t think he suspected anything. He wouldn’t have left so easily, if he had. As for them all being like that, then all we can do is return home with the news.’ He slapped his knees with unconvincing heartiness. ‘But we’ll have to find out more about these people and what they’re doing. We can’t go back crying the alarm on the strength of one chance encounter, can we?’
‘We mightn’t survive another,’ Dvolci said darkly. ‘He was using a crystal, you know.’
‘I know,’ Atlon confirmed. ‘Though I can’t think how.’
Dvolci was angry again. ‘Don’t be so obtuse. You know how.’
Atlon shook his head. ‘It can’t be.’
‘Can’t be? Of course it can! You said it yourself before: the easy path – corruption and degradation – and crystals magnifying the way manyfold. Someone who uses the power so casually is totally under its sway – totally! He’s probably addicted beyond recovery. Tumbling headlong into hell. And it’s hard to imagine he’s alone.’
Atlon turned to Heirn. ‘What do the Kyrosdyn look like – physically – in themselves?’
The smith shrugged. ‘I’ve not really seen all that many. As I told you, they usually keep themselves hooded. But such as I have seen look pale… unhealthy.’
‘Gaunt?’
Heirn nodded. ‘Too much working indoors in ill-lit workshops, I suppose.’
‘But they’re… vigorous, for all that?’
Heirn nodded again. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Though I’d use the word tense rather than vigorous – stiff, jerky and sudden in their movements. And they’ve always been arrogant and unpleasant.’
For a moment, Atlon looked much older. He shook his head slowly as if reluctant to accept his own conclusion. ‘I’m afraid you’re right,’ he said to Dvolci.
Heirn sat down heavily beside Atlon. ‘I’d value an explanation,’ he said. ‘One I can understand. I’ve no idea what you’re both talking about, and, pleasure though it was to see one of them dismissed like a stray dog, even I felt something strange happen.’
Atlon was matter-of-fact. ‘The Power I used to dislodge those horseshoes, he was prepared to use against me. Except that what he was threatening to use was many times stronger. It was akin to your smashing me with your hammer for the same offence.’
‘But he didn’t actually do anything?’ Heirn looked at him anxiously, searching for reassurance.
‘No,’ Atlon replied. He looked unhappily at Dvolci. ‘Had he done, I’d probably have defended myself instinctively. I don’t think I could have done otherwise. And who knows what the consequences of that would have been…’ He paused and studied the smith for a moment. ‘But he raised the hammer, Heirn. Would you have done so in those circumstances? I doubt you’d have raised anything other than your eyebrows. What he did was not the act of a truly sane person. If the others are the same, then they’re much more than just another group of people scrabbling for power and wealth within the city. They’re profoundly dangerous. They’re liable to bring this place down in ruins.
Heirn grimaced. ‘I can’t accept this,’ he said with a broad wave of his hand. ‘No disrespect, Atlon, but you’rereally beginning to talk nonsense. You’ve no idea what this place is like. How big it is. How many conflicting groups there are. The Kyrosdyn are an odd lot, for sure, and undeniably not people to trifle with. But the city’s full of determined and organized groups. Always has been. The Kyrosdyn are one of the oldest – they’re supposed to go back to the very beginnings. Why would they want to harm the place? And how could they? If they started to muster mercenaries, news would be all over the place in days – hours, even – and that would unite almost everyone against them, not least the mob. It’s happened before with other groups.’
The trio sat in silence for a long time, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Eventually, Atlon looked up at the sun, now quite low in the sky. ‘It’s getting late,’ he said, standing. He held out his hand to Heirn. ‘Thank you for your help and your kindness to two strangers,’ he said. ‘I apologize for the problems we’ve caused you. I won’t ask you to accept what I just told you, though it is true. The Power unleashed is something far beyond anything you’ve ever known and you’d think me truly mad if I tried to explain it to you, so I won’t. If I could ask you to direct us back to The Wyndering, preferably avoiding any of the Spills, we’ll be on our way and trouble you no further.’
Heirn too, stood up, and took the offered hand. He looked down at Atlon sternly. ‘The trick with the horseshoes, I thought could probably be just that – a trick. But Kyrosdyn don’t come to my forge, and that one was here like a dog after a rat. That’s a puzzle. Then your manner, your horse, the tack, the shoes, and not least the crystals, all mark you out as being someone unusual. Another puzzle. And the business with the Kyrosdyn. As I said, even I felt something. Yet another. You’ve given me so many questions that I’m unlikely to sleep tonight as it is.’ He leaned forward, looming over Atlon. ‘But this city’s my home, and the home of many good people, for all it leaves a lot to be desired, and if the Kyrosdyn are a danger, I’d like to know more about it.’
Atlon glanced up at the sun again. ‘So would I,’ he said. ‘But I’ve still got the problems I arrived with, and one day less in which to solve them. I need work to pay for food and lodging. Until I get that, there’s precious little I can do about the Kyrosdyn or anything.’
Heirn nodded thoughtfully. ‘It occurs to me that, you coming from such a horse-loving land, you might have some rudimentary skills in say, leatherwork, shoeing, and the like.’ He gestured back into the forge. ‘I’ve usually got a few horses back there that need tending for a day or so. I could perhaps offer you food and board in return for a little help. And while we worked, you could talk.’
Atlon looked at Dvolci uncertainly. Heirn, the inveterate bargainer, pressed his offer before the felci could contribute his thoughts.
‘I don’t think you want to work in a crystal workshop any more, do you?’ he said significantly. ‘Or get too close to any of the Kyrosdyn. At least for the moment.’
Atlon’s expression conceded the point.
‘Then you’re hired?’ Heirn asked encouragingly.
Relief lit Atlon’s face. ‘Yes,’ he said, smiling broadly. ‘You’re very kind.’
‘I’m very curious,’ Heirn admitted bluntly. He looked up and down the square knowingly. ‘And as we’re not likely to get any customers at this time of day, I’ll shut up and we’ll go along to my place. It’s not far. We can have something to eat, then perhaps… talk a while in peace, eh?’
After he had damped down the furnace, it took Heirn only a few minutes to swing a series of heavy shutters into place. They were robust and ingeniously designed to provide no leverage points for would-be thieves, but they were scarred with various impacts nevertheless.
‘Who’d want to steal what’s in here?’ Heirn said as he saw Atlon examining them. ‘But they try. Always they try. It’s a pity they don’t put the same effort into plying an honest trade.’
As they moved away from the forge, Dvolci clambered on to Atlon’s shoulder and whispered urgently in his ear. ‘He’s come back.’
Atlon nodded. ‘Yes, I know.’ He spoke to Heirn. ‘The Kyrosdyn’s back.’
Heirn looked around, startled. ‘I can’t see him.’
‘He’s here even so. How far is it to where these people live?’ he asked.
‘The Vaskyros? Quite a way – why?’
‘Could he have been there and come back since he left the forge?’
‘No. Not even if he’d been riding.’
Atlon’s face became grim. ‘We’ll have to deal with him.’ He looked around anxiously at the busy street. ‘Is there any secluded way we can use to get to your home?’