The Fall of Ossard (44 page)

“I’ve had no more success.”

“Please, if you need anything, just ask.”

I whispered my thanks.

There was nothing left to discuss. The Guild had made its choices, just as the people of Newbank had. In the end, I said, “I have one last question.”

“Yes?”

“Did you discover who’s leading them; the new saints?”

He shook his head. “While it’s been difficult to identify their leadership, everything they’ve promised through their messengers has been honoured.”

I nodded, rose, and left.

On the way home, I stopped by to check on my parents.

We passed through streets growing busy, though thankfully our passage remained quick. From a distance their house seemed calm and orderly enough, standing silent with its windows shuttered. I had Kurt stop the coach and the others - except Sef - remain behind. This, I hoped, would be a short visit.

I entered the house expecting to be greeted by a maid, but none came. The hall spread about me dark and quiet, the room lost to shadow.

Everything seemed to be in order. The only thing unusual was the lack of light and the absence of anybody to greet me. I moved in deeper. That’s when I noticed that the door leading to the courtyard was open - the only source of light and also a faint breeze.

Soft murmurs sounded from outside. My steps quickened, and that’s where I found them.

My father sat on a bench with slumped shoulders and shadowed eyes, his gaze locked onto the rose garden, but I doubted he saw a single petal of its ash-dusted blooms. He was lost to us. Mother sat on another bench across from him also adrift in some trance of gloom. One maid sat with her, stroking Mother’s hair with one hand while the other held a cloth to her brow. The other maid knelt on the cobbles between them whispering hopeful nothings.

They hadn’t noticed my arrival.

“What’s happened?” I asked as I stepped into the courtyard with Sef.

The maids turned to show their pale and drawn faces, but neither of my parents responded.

The maid sitting with my mother said, “Lady Juvela, such tragedy! Your mother grew distant yesterday not long after you left, and then news came of a mob looting your father’s business. He went out there with a group of guildsmen, but they were too late. When he returned, he was so shattered, he could only join your mother in grief.”

She turned back to my mother to stroke her hair. I noticed she wasn’t just doing it to comfort her, she was also brushing ash away from where it landed to settle on her head.

I stepped closer. “Mother, Father, it’s me, Juvela. Are you well?”

The kneeling maid, her eyes red from tears, said, “They won’t talk, they haven’t since sunset yesterday.”

Father sat there turning something over and over in his hands. I knelt in front of him to see that it was the key to the business.

And then my mother whispered, “The child?”

Maria…

I turned. “I haven’t found her, I’m still looking.”

She whispered again, her voice unbearably tense, “The child, the poor child!” She sat stiffly, her fingers trembling as her tears began.

In the celestial, my grandmother walked about her trying to soothe her soul while she also wept. I could feel her guilt. She’d done this to her, to my mother, to her very own daughter, all those years ago as she’d been burnt to death.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find her. I’ll get both her and Pedro, I swear.”

And she mumbled on, “The child, the child!”

I went to her and took her into my arms.

She whispered again, “The child!”

Grandmother stroked her soul, massaging it, trying to get her to relax.

Mother calmed, yet still went on to repeat her mantra.

I smoothed her hair and wiped tears from her cheeks. Something was broken in there. Whether it was the chaos of the city, the kidnappings, or the loss of Maria - it had all been too much.

My mother pulled out of my embrace to settle back on the bench. She began to relax and go quiet, now composed again. Then, when I thought she’d found some kind of peace, she hissed, “The children, we must protect the children!” And her words saw us all grow tense.

My father looked to me and said, “It’s all gone, the shop and warehouse. It’s all gone. There’s nothing left.”

“Father, I’m so sorry to hear it.”

He shook his head. “And what other ill news could there be?”

“Father, the Inquisitor has put out an order for my arrest.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but he’s also named Heinz Kurgar.”

“Why can’t they just work together towards peace?”

“Father, I don’t think they want it.” And it was the first time I’d given voice to the truth.

He fell silent, making me regret speaking such news.

I asked the maids to pack for them, and to have them ready for travel. I said we’d be back to collect them when we left the city, and that they were also welcome to join us.

The ride home began in silence. Marco, Baruna, and the others read enough in my face to not ask any too many questions, but Sef had other ideas. “Juvela, we could send some people around to watch over them, perhaps to make sure that they’re ready to leave?”

I considered it and decided the suggestion had merit. “Do it, it’ll be the only way we can make sure that they’re ready to go. We can have a few people stay there, but not in the house, just the stores and stables.”

Sef nodded.

On the short ride home I worked at trying to forget what I’d seen. That was when something new grabbed my attention; a familiar face on the street. The man was only in view for a moment, but it was long enough.

I knew him…

He wore a hooded robe, yet I knew that strong jaw and those cold eyes. It was the cultist who’d stolen the red-headed boy prior to my coming of age, and then later sacrificed him while I lay under Pedro being deflowered.

He’d know where my family was!

“Stop!” I yelled, as I went for the door.

The cultist stood at a street stall, but must have sensed me, for his head snapped about.

I dropped to the cobbles.

“Wait!” Sef called out.

The cultist watched my charge, my power surging.

He just stood there.

My spirit soared as I closed. I reached out with my hands in the mortal world, and with spectral limbs that rippled with power in the celestial.

But my eager hands passed right through him.

What?

I stopped hard against the stall, its merchant staring at me in fright. I stood there in confusion, the cultist’s image fading as my celestial limbs also failed to entrap anything.

An illusion!

I looked around.

There, down an alleyway, he again stood grinning at me. His voice hissed for only me to hear, “You’ve so much to learn.” And it dragged through my mind like bog-dirty fingers.

I charged after him again, my heart thumping like a drum.

He turned and ran down a dirt alley that doubled as an open sewer, heading for the heart of Newbank’s slums.

I ran on, not caring for anything else. Every time he tried to lose me in those twisting ways, I’d just keep on.

He darted ahead and around a bend, past stalls, bleak refugees, and a pair of men betting on knuckles. I just kept going. Finally, the alleyway opened into a small square hosting a crowded local market.

I came to a stop, but couldn’t see him.

I moved through the crowd towards an alley that seemed to be in the direction he’d been heading, but to no avail. I turned about to search the broader crowd.

Where was he?

With a sinking heart, I realised he’d chosen this place to make his escape. I searched the celestial, but already his scent was stale.

“Juvela!” It was Sef, with the others not far behind.

I fell to the ground to pound the dirt as my frustration overwhelmed me.

Sef rushed to my side

I spread the flats of my hands on the ground and cried out long and low in grief.

He looked down, not knowing what had happened, but knew it had something to do with Pedro and Maria. He also knew that whatever the clue had been, that I’d lost it. He pleaded, “What can I do?”

I hissed, “Damn them!”

“Cultists?” Sef asked as the others gathered about.

And then it cut through the celestial, “Mama, is that you?”

It was Maria!

I cried out as tears flooded my eyes.

It was her!

Sef asked, “Can you sense her?”

And again it came, stronger this time as she sang out in desperation, “Mama!”

Sef and the others started; even they’d felt it.

I spoke the words and sent the thoughts, “Maria, I’m here! Tell me, are you alright?”

“Mama, where’ve you been?”

And the guilt her thoughts aroused was almost enough to overwhelm me. “I’m so sorry, my darling! Please, tell me where you are!”

“Mama, they moved us. Please come and get us!”

“Do you know where you are?”

“It’s windy, there are windows, but they’re too high for me to see out of. All I can see is the smoky sky. Mama, Papa’s sick!”

And my joy faltered. “Oh Maria, what’s wrong?”

“They’ve been cutting him.”

And my soul went numb. “Can you see him, is he there now?”

“Mama, they steal his blood. They do it every day. They’ve taken him away to bleed him some more.”

“Maria, I have to work out where you are. Do you know? Is there anything more that you can tell me?”

I don’t know, Mama. It’s windy and cold.”

I begged her, “Maria, please, my love, tell me more. Are you sure you can’t see or hear anything else besides the wind and smoke?”

“Sometimes I can hear the city, but the sounds are always faint.”

I lifted my head and looked about. “It’s Maria and she’s close.”

Sef also started looking around. “Where?”

“She doesn’t know. She says she can only see the sky out of the windows and nothing else. She must be high up.”

And at one end of the square, rising up and over it, with a few ramshackle buildings crowded about its base, climbed a tower. It didn’t look mighty like the Turo, but amidst a slum its strong stonewalls made the five level building loom like a fortress. Its three top levels were each marked by small square windows, one set in the midst of each of its four walls.

Sef was looking the same way.

“That must be it!” I cried.

“I guess so,” Sef answered, his words drowning in gloom.

I looked to him in surprise.

He was shaking his head. “We need to be sure. Ask her about the windows, ask her where they are in the wall, how many, and if they’re long, round, or square.”

“Maria, we need to be sure of which building you’re in. Describe the windows; where are they in the wall, and what are their shapes?”

“They’re small squares above even Father’s head. There’s one in each wall, in the middle.”

“Good girl Maria, I think we know where you are!”

“Come soon!”

“As soon as we can.”

I turned my attention back to Sef. “That’s it!”

He sighed in disbelief. “That’s Kurgar’s, the old tower I was telling you about.”

“What?” I howled.

The others just stood there, but I could read their thoughts: