Cloak of the Two Winds (19 page)

BOOK: Cloak of the Two Winds
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"Relax." Amlina touched his forehead with her finger, soothing the upsurge of feeling. "Describe what you see."

Abruptly, Lonn opened his eyes. Amid silvery glitter he saw Amlina's face.

"Close your eyes," she said calmly, and he obeyed.

"You must not turn over control to your emotions," the witch admonished. "Relax and keep your eyes shut. Breathe slowly and deeply. Concentrate again on seeing the bright water. Let there be no image but this in your mind, no thought but of this."

For perhaps an hour Amlina made him watch the waters of the Deepmind, gently bringing his attention back to that image whenever it strayed. At last his self-awareness vanished as before, leaving only the restless waves of gray and silver. Then Amlina told him to picture Glyssa.

At once Glyssa's image appeared before his mind's eye, her face gaunt and pale, her eyes stricken. She gazed at him with a desperate, pleading look, and Lonn shuddered with pain and remorse.

"Do you see her?" Amlina asked, her voice soft as before, but tense.

Her words made the image ripple like a reflection in a pool. Much of it scattered, but the pleading eyes remained.

"Do you see her?" Amlina insisted.

"Yes."

"Describe her surroundings."

But as Glyssa's image resettled Lonn could see only blackness about her, shiny and dense.

"It's dark."

"Keep looking," Amlina said. "Light will come."

But instead the vision wavered again, threatening to vanish.

"She's alone," Lonn said, the knowledge coming from nowhere. "Frightened."

"She can speak to you," Kizier's voice suggested. "Ask where she is."

Lonn trembled as he mouthed the question. Then his head shook. "She can't answer me. She can't move…even her hand."

With a sob Lonn slumped over sideways and curled up. He had glimpsed Glyssa's state of helplessness and isolation. He knew he had touched the truth, and it racked him with an unbearable grief. Glyssa's image had dissolved entirely now, and sparks of silver blew like snow through his mind.

Amlina laid a hand on his shoulder and told him to sit up. Abruptly he did, blinking and rubbing his eyes. At last they cleared, and he saw Amlina and Kizier watching him with sober concern. Lonn shook himself, then leaned his forehead on his fists, breathing heavily, trying not to weep.

"You are gifted with deep vision," Amlina said after a time. "But you have too much emotion. You saw Glyssa in truth, but your feelings of pain dispersed the image."

"What should I have done?" Lonn asked.

Amlina sighed. "You did all you could, which was to look and react. It's your reactions that need tempering. But that takes time. Of which we have little. At least you did see her, which indicates she is still alive."

"Let me try again," Lonn said.

"Not now. Your emotions are aroused. They need time to settle. Besides, Glyssa is hidden by strong designs, no doubt the same as hide the Cloak. That is the meaning of the shiny darkness you saw."

"Then how will we find her when we get to Kadavel?"

"By whatever means the Deepmind provides," the witch said. "We will take up lodgings, and I will search with the deepsight. The perspective will be different once we are inside the city. If, in a few days, I have not discovered the Cloak, I will guide you into another trance and we will look for Glyssa again."

Amlina extinguished the lamp on the floor and stood. "Meantime you should rest and meditate as much as time allows."

Numb and shaken, Lonn carried Kizier through the dim passage and up the steps to the quarterdeck.

"You should rejoice." the bostull said as Lonn put him down. "You were able to see Glyssa and know she is alive."

"I know," Lonn said. "But the pain I felt—her pain—was terrible."

He shivered at the recollection and looked off astern. Low in the east hung Rog, a blood-red sickle cutting the clouds.

All that night Amlina sat in wei trance, viewing the image of Glyssa that she had apprehended from Lonn's mind. But though Amlina moved in the Deepmind with practiced skill, she could see no more of the vision than Lonn had seen: a small and frightened woman surrounded by shiny blackness, the image constantly rippling, threatening to dissolve into the dark.

Fourteen

A turmoil of clouds, blue-gray and pink, hung over Kadavel in the dawn. Beneath the clouds, the city spread in an enormous confusion of gabled roofs and twisting streets, crawling gradually up to two stark outcroppings of black rock—the Long Acropolis and the High. Along the waterfront stood broad quays of wood and stone, and beyond them reared a wooden wall, broken every few hundred feet by tall gates with dragon arches. Lonn recognized the boldly carved dragons: This was indeed the harbor he had dreamed.

He and his mates stared in wonder as the city drew near. Kadavel was even larger than the Iruks had expected, perhaps ten times the size of Fleevanport, the largest town they knew. Lonn's elation at recognizing the city gates was dampened by a seed of despair. Glancing around, he saw similar awe and apprehension reflected on the faces of his mates.

How would they ever find Glyssa in such a place? 

For the last day and night the wind had been slack, the
Plover
relying mostly on the bostulls. The channel had continued to widen until the shore of Borga dropped away entirely, leaving open ice to the south. To the north the coast had altered, rocky hills appearing some distance inland, columns of rising smoke there testifying to habitation. Then, in the night, the
Plover
had passed villages built on stilts along the marshy shore.

Finally, in the first morning light, the coaster entered the harbor of Kadavel, called the Shipway. It stretched a mile across and several miles long, enclosed by two curved sandbars. The
Plover's
whole company had assembled on the decks to watch the city draw near on the starboard side, or to scan the rows of anchored vessels to port. In this non-sailing season the Shipway was crowded with barges and freighters from all corners of the Three Nations. Every shape of hull and type of rigging the Iruks had ever seen was here—and others they had never imagined.

Troneck had argued against sailing along the front row of ships, declaring that all the slips so near the city would obviously be filled. But Amlina had insisted, saying they would find a mooring at exactly the luckiest place.

The coaster's arrival was spotted from the city quays and a number of boats, their lateen sails hoisted, started out to intercept the newcomer. These were skimmers, small flat-bellied craft that ferried passengers and freight back and forth from the anchored ships to the city.

Five of the skimmers were racing toward the coaster when suddenly a meltwind blew. It seemed to ripple into existence just a few yards astern of the
Plover
. The Iruks hardly knew it was coming before the blinding witchlight and flash of heat was upon them. Lonn watched the scintillating curtain sweep on across the harbor, dropping the lines of moored ships down to toss on the newly soft water.

It was a moment before he realized the water was dark, absolutely dark, the seaglow gone from it. Lonn and his mates exchanged looks of unease. They had learned to expect this from the Kadavellan admiral. Yet being told of it had not prepared them for the weird, unnerving sight of a broad expanse of lightless seawater. The Larthangan crewmen were equally startled. Troneck had to bawl the command through his megaphone three times before men moved to haul in the ice runners.

Off to starboard, the skimmers had adjusted their sheets to the shifted breeze and were pulling near the coaster. Amlina took Troneck's megaphone and called to the Tathians.

"We seek a berth in the inmost row. Is there such a one toward the middle of the city?"

"By a twist of luck there is," shouted the helmsman of the foremost skimmer. "Just yesterday a Xinnerite freighter was divested of a prime slip for failing to meet its fees. Throw us your line and we'll show you the place."

The line was tossed and one of the three-man crew fastened it to the skimmer's bow. This action, Troneck explained, gave the lead boat first claim on the
Plover
, the right to collect its taxes and mooring fees. The men in the trailing boats shouted to inquire whether more than one skimmer would be needed. Amlina answered no, whereupon the skimmers turned through the wind and headed back to shore.

Meantime the lead boat had pulled alongside the coaster and the skimmer men were climbing up a ladder lowered to accommodate them. Dressed in wools and leathers, with sea boots that reached to their thighs, the three Tathians crossed the main deck with a crisp gait. They trotted up the steps to the quarterdeck, glanced curiously at the armed Iruks, then bowed to Amlina and Troneck.

The leader of the three held up a seal worn on a chain around his neck—his license from the city's harbor authorities. He told the helmsman to hold course, that the mooring place was not far off. Then he demanded to know what cargo the ship carried and from whence it had sailed in this off-season. Amlina repeated the story she had used on the admiral, of their being blown out to sea from the coast of Nyssan.

"We've almost no cargo left in our holds," she admitted. "We'll need to hire ourselves out to a shipper of your city."

"You may have a long wait for a contract," the harbor man replied indifferently. "There are many empty ships in port, and the winter season doesn't start till next month."

He dispatched his two crewmen to search below in order to verify Amlina's report, then took an abacus from inside his doublet and began to make calculations.

"I'll charge you for only two small-month's harbor fees today, though the odds are you'll end up staying longer. When the 22 days are over, I'll call on you again."

"Myself and these five bodyguards will be going ashore in your craft," Amlina told him. "You may add that charge to the others."

"Will you be needing supplies ferried out for the rest of your crew?"

"No. They will go ashore in our skiffs to purchase what they need."

The Tathian nodded, his fingers busy with the counters. Troneck interrupted him to ask about the darkening of the sealight.

"It's been going on and off for more than half a month now." The Tathian shrugged. "Sometimes the Aubergale blows out the sealight, sometimes the Glazer does. Sometimes the light goes on and off when no winds are about. If there's a pattern to it, no one's figured it out. If there's a cause, no one knows what it is."

"It makes me shiver to think of," Troneck complained. "Doesn't it worry you Kadavellans?"

"Some it does. Me, I'm a businessman, and so far my business has not been affected. If it keeps up into the sailing season, and traders began to shun Kadavel because of it, then that's another matter. Meantime I'll tend to my own business and not look for more to worry about than that. Your vacant slip lies ahead."

The coaster approached the empty berth, a single gap in the long line of close-anchored vessels. The dry dock consisted of a concrete ramp set with stone runners. As the ship's prow floated to the bottom of the ramp, Troneck barked orders for all sails to be lowered. When this was done, six of the sailors scrambled over the side and stepped onto the lower part of the dock. The rest of the crew were dispatched below to let out the anchor chains and stand by the capstan. The crewmen on the dock dragged the twin chains up to the top of the ramp and locked them onto stout bollards. Troneck shouted word to the men below to turn the capstan. The chains were pulled tight, the deck tilted, and with a thunderous roll the
Plover
was hauled up the ramp.

A dry dock allowed a ship's hull to be repaired, the ice runners scraped and sharpened. Crucially, it also kept a craft from becoming icebound if a freezewind blew. With the incline and rollers, a ship could easily be launched again onto either ice or soft water. Lonn had seen dry docks before: the more expensive berths in Fleevanport used the mechanism. Here in Kadavel there seemed to be hundreds.

While the ship was being secured, the two Tathians returned from below and reported to their skipper. He double-checked his figures and announced a sum to Amlina. The witch paid him in small silver coins, nearly emptying her purse. The skimmer man presented her with a set of documents from a sealed leather packet. He and his men then climbed over the side to prepare their skimmer for casting off.

Amlina handed Troneck the small number of coins she had left.

"At the prices they charge, this will buy us supplies for eight or ten days at the most," he said.

"After that you can sell what's left of the cargo."

"As you say, Lady. But with the tariffs and hauling charges, there won't be much left to purchase supplies. And in 22 days there'll be the harbor fees to pay again."

Amlina sighed. "If you've not heard from us in that time you are free of me. You can sell my possessions in the Street of the Magic Vendors. The price they bring should see you back to Larthang, whether you find a cargo here or not."

"And you'll release us from your spell?"

"I promise it. On the condition that you swear to see Kizier safely back to Larthang, that he may give an account of the Cloak at the House of the Deepmind."

"Very well. I swear it."

Amlina looked him deeply in the eyes, then turned away. She knelt before Kizier and touched his upper leaves gently.

"I will miss your wise advice, my friend."

"I wish I could go with you," he said. "I will send you light in my thoughts, of course. I wish I could do more. You Iruks, take good care of her."

Surprised by the bostull’s show of affection for the witch, Lonn merely grunted.

"We will guard her well," Draven promised.

The klarnmates followed Amlina to the main deck, where Karrol and Eben lifted up two large bundles. One was Amlina's, carefully wrapped in canvas and tied with cord. The other belonged to the Iruks and consisted of their spears and skates rolled up with spare furs. They lowered the gear over the side, then clambered down the ladder. They marched down the edge of the ramp and boarded the skimmer, sitting three abreast in the center. The Tathians pushed off from the dock and hoisted the sail, which the boat's lone windbringer managed to fill at once with a favorable wind.

As the skimmer started across the harbor toward the immensity of the city, Lonn noticed that the seaglow had returned, sparkling in the flapping waves. In the sky the clouds still hovered, towering thunderheads sliding over lower white formations.

"We wish to land at the Luxury Market," Amlina told the skipper. "Is the Jeweler's Walk still located behind the Quay of the Silk Traders?"

"It was moved several years ago," the skimmer man answered. "It now occupies the rear quarter of what used to be the Bazaar of Exotic Wines. We will drop you at the nearest gate."

When the skimmer was halfway to the city docks a freezewind blew. The skipper told his mates to trim sail and his passengers to duck their heads. Lonn and the others did so, feeling the breeze pick up, then change to an icy gust. The boat leaned and bumped hard, jumping up, then burst ahead with hull-set runners rustling on the new ice. Lonn looked up, then immediately shaded his eyes. The witchlight had intensified to a blinding glare.

Running fleetly now, the skimmer pulled abreast of the marble quays. They sailed past two of the high dragon gates before the helmsman turned abruptly, swinging upwind with a hissing sound and a spray of ice flakes slashed up by the runners. The craft stopped neatly beside the steps of the pier.

Amlina got exact directions to the Jewelers' Walk before stepping ashore. The Iruks had already jumped from the boat and received their bundles, tossed to them by the skimmer men.

"Keep close together," Amlina said as they mounted the steps. "You could easily get lost."

Even in this off-season the waterfront here at the center of the city was crowded. Skimmer men and stevedores carried bundles up and down the steps, warmly-dressed peddlers hawked their wares, city guardsmen patrolled on the backs of gangling six-limbed mounts called aklors.

Amlina and the Iruks crossed the wide pier and passed beneath the dragon arch. They found themselves at the entrance to a long enclosed avenue with cedar porticoes lifting up to a wooden roof. This was the start of the Luxury Market, and the Iruks had never dreamed anything like it. The avenue was thronged with vendors and shoppers, wool-clad Tathians mostly, but also Larthangans in heavy silks and furs, and people of Nyssan in their long coats and feathered bonnets. Most went afoot, but some rode aklors, and many of the well-to-do reclined in palanquins with stove pipes jutting through the roofs. In the swarm of people from so many far-flung realms, the Iruks elicited little notice. The place resounded with a babble of voices: dealers accosting passers-by, customers haggling over prices.

Amlina led the Iruks down the avenue, past stalls of imported rugs and fine tapestries, through the Bazaar of the Lamp Vendors with its booths of fire boxes, gilded braziers, scented oils, and wind-proof lanterns.

"Why did you bring us here?" Karrol demanded of the witch.

"Because I am out of money. I need to arrange for our finances. Afterward, we'll find an inn."

"We finally arrive in this city and all you think about is money and a roof," Karrol bickered. "We are here to find Glyssa. We ought to start looking at once."

"That is impractical," Amlina said. "To search in the Deepmind I must have solitude. And all of us must be fed and kept warm, so that we'll be in condition to act when the time comes."

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