Tab opened her eyes slowly, and flinched away from the pounding pain in the back of her skull. Everything was dark, and smelly, and stuffy, just as it would be if an old dung sack had been pulled over her head.
She tried to lift her hands, but she couldn’t – they were tied behind her.
Oh, well that’s just great, she thought wryly. Someone’s gone and knocked me over, tied me up and pulled an old sack over my head.
Judging by the rumble and jolting of wheels, the rocking motion, and the clop-clop-clop of hooves, she decided that she must have been in a cart of some kind. She tried to call out, but it was only then that she noticed the rag that had been stuffed into her mouth. The only sound she could make was something between a grunt and a moan.
‘Quiet,’ a man’s voice growled beside her. ‘You’ll get us all killed.’
By working her mouth back and forth, Tab was finally able to force the rag out. She spat a couple of times to get the musty taste from her tongue. ‘Where are we?’ she whispered. ‘And where are we going?’
‘I don’t know,’ the man said. ‘I can’t see anything.’
‘Have you got something over your head as well?’ Tab asked.
‘We all do,’ replied a third, woman’s voice.
‘I told you, be quiet,’ the man said again. ‘We’re heading somewhere, and I don’t know where, but I’m quite sure we’re not going to like it. One thing’s for certain, however – it’s going to be a lot worse for us if our captors think that we’re going to give their game away, whatever that might be.’
The man’s voice seemed very familiar to Tab, and she frowned to herself as she tried to place it.
‘Um… do I know you?’ she asked.
‘Are you talking to me?’ the man replied.
‘Yes.’
‘Then it’s best you don’t. Seriously, you need to be quiet.’
The cart continued rocking along the cobblestones.
‘We’re heading for starboard,’ said the woman’s voice. ‘We just went past the Quartermaster’s Inn.’
‘How could you know that?’ the man asked gruffly.
‘Because the Quartermaster’s Inn is the only place that has Fresni folk music on a Bursday evening. Hear that? That’s the sound of a grue-harp.’
‘You’re right,’ Tab replied.
‘Very good,’ the man muttered. ‘We’re heading starboard. That’s one thing we know, at least.’
‘Verris?’ Tab said, finally managing to place the voice.
‘Yes. Why – who’s that?’
‘It’s Tab. Tab Vidler.’
‘Tab!’
‘This is amazing, Verris! I thought you were dead!’
‘Not quite, although sometimes it felt like it. But listen, we must keep quiet. I don’t know where they’re taking us, but I quite suspect that they’d think nothing of killing us. So we need to lie low until we know better what’s going on.’
‘I can’t believe this,’ said the woman. ‘It all happened so fast. One minute I’m eating my dinner, the next I hear a sound behind me, and I’ve got a sack over my head. I don’t even know why. But what if they’re taking us somewhere to kill us?’
‘I doubt it. If they’d wanted us dead – and I can’t think why anyone would – they’d have killed us by now. No, I think they’ve got plans for us.’
Plans, thought Tab. She didn’t like the sound of that. There was only one way to deal with a plan, and that was to come up with a better one.
‘Verris,’ she whispered.
Verris grunted.
‘We need a plan.’
‘For what?’
‘To escape.’
She heard him sniff. ‘Tab, how can we possibly plan an escape when we don’t know where we’re being taken, or for what purpose? All we really know is where we are at this moment. So sit tight for now.’
‘Agreed,’ Tab said, suddenly thinking about Philmon. His skill with knots would have been handy.
It was hard to say nothing, so Tab occupied herself trying to mind-meld with the horse pulling the cart. She flicked through the mental noise in her mind like pages in a book, and eventually felt a pressure in her shoulders, a tightness in her thighs, and the cold hardness of a bit in her mouth. She knew she was in the mind of a horse.
›››I hope you don’t mind if I take a look at where we’re going
›››Sorry
After a time – it was impossible to know how long, exactly – the cart began to slow. Then it stopped.
‘Steady,’ she heard Verris murmur. ‘Just do whatever they say, for now.’
The horse stamped and snorted, and the sound echoed about, as if they were in a large room. Tab heard a large, heavy door close. Then the cart jiggled as someone stepped up into it.
‘There they are, like I promised,’ said a thin, copper-coloured voice.
‘Is the pirate here?’ asked another voice, thick, like it was speaking through gruel.
‘Yes, he’s the big one.’
‘So that’s him, huh? I was starting to wonder if he really existed.’
‘Oh yes, he exists all right. They’ve kept him very safe.’
‘And who are these others?’
‘That’s the interpreter there.’
Suddenly Tab felt her arm being prodded with a foot. ‘And who’s this?’ Thick-voice asked.
‘She’s the one we’ve been tailing for a while. The magician.’
‘She’s pretty small for a magician. So, where’d you find her – Skulum Gate?’
‘No, she’s young.’
‘Right. And who’s the runt? What’s the boy’s skill?’
‘Think about it.’
‘Oh, right.’ Thick-voice laughed. ‘Yes, I see now.’
‘All right, let’s get them unloaded. Big one first, I reckon.’
Any thoughts Tab might have had about resisting disappeared as she felt Verris struggling beside her, and heard a dull, thuddy blow, followed by a grunt.
‘What did I tell you about fighting back?’ Copper-voice growled.
Then Tab felt hands reaching under her arms and lifting her by the shoulders. ‘Just you hold tight there, girly, and nothing bad will happen to you just yet,’ Thick-voice murmured in her ear.
Just yet, she thought. That sounds reassuring.
She was lowered to the ground, and staggered for a moment in the darkness of her sack. Then she was directed forward with a hand at the nape of her neck. One step at a time, she began to walk tentatively forward. ‘Step up,’ Thick-voice grunted, and she raised her foot high. The surface on which she stood felt slightly unstable, like she had just walked onto a gangplank. She hesitated. Where were they taking her?
‘Keep going, you’re not there yet,’ Thick-voice said. ‘Big step down.’
Tab took one more step, and found herself falling forward. With her arms tied she was unable to break her fall, and crashed heavily onto the floor of wherever it was she’d been led. Behind her, she heard the men laugh, and she fought back the tears that sprang into her eyes. Even with a sack over her head to hide her face, she wouldn’t allow herself to cry. She had to keep her wits about her.
Somewhere beside her, she heard a thud, followed by another. Someone was sniffling. Footsteps could be heard around them.
‘Barbarians,’ she heard Verris say.
‘Shut up, pirate,’ Thick-voice snapped. ‘All right, listen up, all of you – I don’t want to have to repeat myself. Pirate, you’re in charge.’
‘In that case, I order you to let us go,’ Verris replied. His voice was cut short by the sound of another thuddy blow.
‘Pirate, you’re in charge,’ Thick-voice repeated. ‘You, crying woman, you’ll be interpreting.’
‘In… interpreting? Interpreting what?’
Thick-voice ignored her. ‘And you…’ – here Tab felt a toe poke her in the ribs – ‘… you’re going to navigate.’
‘What?’
‘You used to be a magician, didn’t you?’
‘For a while, but I wasn’t much more than an apprentice -’
‘Don’t worry, you’ll do.’
‘It’ll have to,’ said Copper-voice.
‘Since I’m the navigator, where exactly am I navigating us to?’
‘You’ll work it out.’
‘I’ll work it out? How exactly -?’
Thick-voice cut her off. ‘Now listen up, I’m getting tired of all this back-chat. You’re on a scout-pod, which you’re to crew on a very special mission. We’re about to cut you free.’
‘You’ve got to untie us if we’re going to do as you ask,’ Verris said. ‘And mark my words, you’ll be dead before you’re so much as halfway down that gangway.’
The men laughed. ‘You don’t think that’s been thought of? The ropes that tie you are enchanted. You’ll remain bound until your scout-pod is clear of the city, when they’ll release. Pirate, you’ll find your orders in the mission chest. Oh, and there’s a bag aboard with weapons in it.’
‘And if we choose not to follow these so-called “orders”?’
‘Return prematurely and you’ll go back until it’s done, as many times as it takes. I’d say it’s in your interest to do exactly as you are told, and to do it the first time, wouldn’t you?’
‘That’s all you can tell us?’ Tab said.
‘You’ll not get away with this,’ Verris warned.
‘Oh, I quite suspect that we will,’ Thick-voice said. ‘It’s all at the pleasure of the Emperor.’
‘Shut up!’ snarled Copper-voice.
‘What? It’s all in the orders anyway!’
‘Still…’
‘Well, all the best to you. Quentaris thanks you,’ said Thick-voice. Then he and Copper-voice both chuckled.
Tab heard their footsteps moving away, and a woody scraping noise. Then, somewhere below them, a loud, echoey grinding sound that made Tab screw up her face in the musty darkness of her sack.
‘They’re cutting us loose,’ Verris said. ‘They’re taking away the gangway. Try to stop crying – it’ll be all right,’ he said to the woman. ‘What’s your name, anyway?’
‘Danda,’ she replied, her voice quivering. ‘I’m sorry that I’m being such a cry-baby, but nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Oo!’ she suddenly exclaimed, as the pod shifted slightly beneath them, and began to drop. ‘We’re moving!’
‘Yes, they’re sending us groundwards.’
‘Groundwards?’ said Tab. ‘But there is no ground. It’s just ocean down there!’
‘I don’t like this,’ Danda said.
‘Neither do I,’ said Verris. ‘So, we’ve got Tab the navigator, and Danda the interpreter, and the boy. You, boy – you’re not saying much. What’s your name?’
There was no response.
‘Maybe he’s dead,’ Tab suggested. ‘He hit the deck pretty hard when they threw him on.’
‘Hold on,’ Verris said, and Tab felt him wriggling past her. ‘He’s not dead – I can hear him breathing.’
The scout-pod continued to sink, buffeted and gently tossed in updrafts and air pockets as it descended. Tab closed her eyes under the cover of her sack and stretched her mind in every direction, feeling for anything that had eyes or other senses she could borrow, but there was nothing about. A very slight flicker appeared on the very fringes of her consciousness, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Either they were already too far below Quentaris to enable her to reach the minds of anything in the city, or there was something about this pod that was blocking her mind-melding skills.
Then, as she squeezed her eyes shut and probed even further into the blackness, she felt a strange tingling about her wrists. ‘My ropes feel like they’re getting looser,’ she announced.
‘Mine too,’ Verris replied. ‘Just as those thugs said they would.’
‘They’re much looser now,’ Tab said. She began to pull her arms apart behind her, just a little at a time, trying to stretch the loosening ropes. And finally, like unravelling stitching, they fell away.
‘They’re off!’ she said, rubbing her wrists.
‘Then get ours off as well – we might be able to do something before we’re too far from the city,’ Verris said.
Tab pulled the sack from her head. The fresh air hit her face like a bucket of water, and she sucked in huge lungfuls of clean air as she looked around. In the dim light of the moon behind the thin cloud, she could see that the pod was like a small boat, only square, with railings instead of gunwales, and a stubby mast about six feet tall. In one corner was a barrel, in another some ropes were loosely coiled on the deck, a long sack lay against one side, and right in the middle of the pod was a chest, secured to the deck with two heavy metal straps.
‘I see the mission chest,’ she said.
‘Tab, untie me,’ Verris said. ‘Hurry!’
She crawled over to him and lifted the sack from his head. He blinked and looked around. Dirt or whatever else had been in the sack was caught in his untidy beard, and as soon as Tab had leant behind him and finished loosening his ropes, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and spat.
‘That is disgusting!’ he said. Then he smiled at Tab and threw his arms around her. ‘Tab Vidler! If I had to choose just one person to be on this ridiculous errand with, it would be you.’
‘It’s been so long, hasn’t it?’ Tab replied, trying not to wrinkle up her nose at his smell. ‘Where have you been?’
‘I’ve been – what’s the word? – languishing in one of Florian’s dungeons. I hear there was a rumour about me dying of a broken heart.’
‘Over a horse,’ Tab told him, and he smiled.
‘A horse? A woman, maybe, but a horse? What is wrong with these people? Come on, let’s get the others free.’
While Verris began to untie Danda, Tab went to the small, curled up bundle in the corner. This person wasn’t wearing a sack – he was simply wearing a blindfold. As she came closer in the moonlight, Tab began to recognise the face behind the blindfold. ‘Torby? Is that you?’ she said, even though she knew that it was. His blindfold fell away, and it was indeed Torby, his eyes open, staring blankly into nothingness as he lay on his left side.
Quickly Tab untied his hands, talking to him the whole time. Clearly whomever had kidnapped him didn’t know him very well – there was never any need to tie Torby up. He hadn’t moved for almost a year, so he was hardly likely to start now!
‘Torby,’ she said, hugging him close. ‘Why are you here, of all people?’
‘Oh my.’ Verris was standing behind Tab, looking down at her and Torby. ‘They took him? Why?’
‘I don’t know,’ Tab replied.
‘He’s so… What’s wrong with him? He was doing so well!’
‘He got worse just after the Archon died,’ Tab explained.
‘Didn’t we all?’ Verris replied. Then he looked up, and Tab followed his gaze. The dark underside of the floating city of Quentaris was now far above them. And below them, in the growing light of the overcast dawn, Tab could see the surface of the ocean.
‘Is there any land down there to settle on yet?’ she asked hopefully.
Verris walked to the railing and leaned out to look down. ‘Nothing but ocean,’ he said, narrowing his eyes. ‘Nothing but ocean,’ he repeated, in a thoughtful murmur. ‘I’m trying to remember.’
‘Remember what?’ asked Danda, who was now standing beside him. She was quite tall, with a long, angular face and straw-like white hair.
‘I’m trying to remember which world is all ocean. I can’t… I don’t think I’ve been here before… or have I?’ Verris shook his head again, more firmly this time. He seemed very frustrated with his failing memory. ‘I can’t remember, but I think it’s bad.’ He suddenly turned to Danda. ‘Apparently you’re our interpreter. What language do you speak?’
‘I speak several.’
‘Care to name them?’
‘Um… well, I do speak Unja.’
‘Who doesn’t?’ Verris replied. ‘What else?’
‘I also speak Thermali, quite fluently.’
‘Hmm, less common, but Thermali speakers aren’t exactly rare. Anything else?’
‘I know a little Tallis, and I can also speak… No, that’s about it. Yes, that’s all.’
‘You hesitated,’ Verris said, in a tone that, for some reason, chilled Tab’s blood. ‘What else do you speak?’
‘I told you, that’s it…’
‘What else do you speak?’ Verris insisted, his face suddenly very stern.
Danda’s voice was low, as if saying it quietly would make it less likely. ‘I also studied Yarka for a time.’
‘Yarka.’ Verris’ voice was just as quiet as Danda’s, but he said the word with a tone of dread that almost made Tab’s heart stop. ‘No one speaks Yarka.’
‘Except me,’ Danda said. ‘It’s true.’
‘Then that’s it. It makes sense, all that ocean. We’re going to meet the Yarka.’
Tab took a deep breath. To speak would be to break the moment, to make the feeling of horror that had descended over them feel completely real, rather than some kind of nasty dream. ‘What are the Yarka?’ she asked at last.
Silence.
‘Verris, tell me. Who – or what – are the Yarka?’
‘I don’t want to alarm you, Tab.’
‘It’s a little late for that,’ she said. ‘I’m supposed to be navigating, Verris, so you need to tell me. I deserve to know.’
‘Very well,’ Verris replied with a sigh. ‘Tab, even the Tolrushians are afraid of the Yarka.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘No, I don’t think you do. Whatever you imagine them to be, they are that much worse.’
‘Have you met them before?’ Tab asked.
Verris gave a humourless chuckle. ‘ Met them? No. I did see a dead one in a jar of alcohol once, but they don’t tend to die very much. Perfectly suited to their environment. I’d always hoped I’d never have to meet them face to face.’
‘What do they do?’
‘Do? Whatever they want.’
‘I mean, what do they have that we could want? Or need?’
‘The rumour is that they grow icefire, but I don’t believe it.’
‘Doesn’t it make sense?’ Danda said.
‘You tell us. You’ve studied the Yarka – what do they do?’ Verris asked her.
Danda shook her head. ‘I didn’t study the Yarka, I just studied their language. I know almost nothing about them. But don’t you think it makes sense that they grow icefire? Icefire’s what we need more than anything, and they’ve sent us on this… ridiculous mission.’
‘But why us?’ Tab asked. ‘There’s four of us, and that’s including Torby. It’s not much of an army.’
‘They didn’t want to send an army,’ Verris said. ‘If Quentaris was to assemble an army to fight the Yarka but we didn’t win, then we would lose many, many Quentarans for no reason. We can’t fight the Yarka, so we need to negotiate.’
‘Will that work?’ asked Danda.
‘The Yarka might be savage, but they’re also a proud race,’ Verris said. ‘They’ll hear us out.’
‘And if we don’t achieve what we have to achieve?’
‘Florian will send us again, or someone else.’
‘There is no one else,’ Danda said. ‘There was me, and my tutor, and she died almost a year ago. As far as I know, I’m the only one.’
Verris held her in a long gaze. ‘Then you’d better interpret well, hadn’t you?’