Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law (12 page)

Talsy nodded,
swallowing the bile that had crept into her throat.

The crone
stared at her with faded green eyes. "Well, if it's not a man or an
animal, what can it be? A woman? I have a potion for that too."

"No, not a
woman." Talsy raised a hand to her mouth, sure that she was about
to vomit. She longed to escape the dark horrible house, but the
crone's intent gaze held her like a snake holds a rabbit.

The crone's
eyes lighted with dawning comprehension. "Not a man, nor woman nor
animal. That only leaves one thing, girl. You know, no one's
thought of that. What a grand idea!"

She looked
excited. "You can get your hands on one? You know, I bet there are
plenty of women who'd pay excellent money for a chance to bear that
child if it's possible. But if sheep can breed with pigs and cats
with dogs, which never could before, then why not?" She gripped
Talsy's wrist, pushing her face close to the girl's. Talsy gagged
at the stench. "If you know where to get one, I could make you
rich, missy!"

"No, I never
said..." Talsy tried to break free of the witch's hold, but the
woman's hand was like a vice.

"We thought
that they were all in the Pits." The crone ignored her struggles.
"You do know where there's one, don't you? If you do, I have
something that will help you, lass. Yes, it might work."

Talsy forced
her stomach to stop churning. "You do?"

The hag
nodded. "Mighty expensive though, brought from far to the north by
a tradesman. Makes Truemen crazy with lust, but it would probably
work on one of them, too. Never been able to try it, mind, there's
none of them about."

Talsy's
curiosity got the better of her revulsion. "Where does it come
from?"

"Well now, I
was told it comes from a huge plant they found far out in the
wilderness. The men had to burn it, because the thing was deadly.
But when they reached the flower, they went berserk, started...
never mind that. They cut some pieces of it and brought it back.
It's not a potion or nothing, it's a scent. They kept it in a
bottle, and I bought a bit, just a little to try. No effect on
women mind, but the men!" She gave a low cackle.

Talsy stopped
listening to the old crone's prattle, her mind flying back to the
vast golden plain she had crossed with Chanter and the huge,
strange flower they had encountered there. The way he had gone to
the flower, as if drawn by a siren's call and returned exhausted
and silent. She interrupted the hag's story.

"How
much?"

"Well, now, I
doubt you could afford it, lass, but I tell you what..."

"How
much?"

The crone
looked miffed and named an exorbitant sum that Talsy could not
afford. The silver she carried was worth a great deal, but the
woman's price far exceeded that.

She shook her
head. "Too much."

"I thought
so." The witch nodded. "Listen to me, girl. I'm prepared to let you
have it on loan, see? When the deed's done, you bring it back,
right? In return I get a share in the child, if it works."

Talsy recoiled
at the idea. "A share in a child? Why would you want that?"

"Hell, the
same reason you want the babe, girl! If he has his sire's powers,
he can do anything, and that's worth a lot of money. Just think how
much we could hire him out for! We'll be rich beyond our wildest
dreams!"

Talsy's
stomach churned again, but she swallowed the harsh words that leapt
onto her tongue. No wonder these people had been condemned, the
depths of their depravity sickened and horrified her. A flicker of
doubt made her pause. Perhaps she should not defy Chanter and trick
him if he refused her Wish. Her reasons for wanting his child were
far different from the old hag's, borne of a longing to bear the
perfect, beautiful child of the man she loved. She did not care if
Chanter's child had no powers, in fact, it would be better if he
did not. The hag watched her eagerly, and Talsy found herself
nodding.

The witch's
face lighted, and she scuttled into the darkness at the back of the
hut, to emerge moments later clutching a clear glass bottle. The
candlelight fell on a ragged piece of something that glowed with
the deep colour of Chanter's eyes. Mujar blue. The moment she saw
it, Talsy knew that it would work, and the answer to the mystery of
Mujar procreation hit her like a bucket of cold water. Stunned by
it, she answered the hag's questions in a daze, gave a false name
and address and signed the tattered piece of paper that was the
foul agreement.

Slipping the
bottle into her bodice, she fled the fetid house and its foul
proprietor before she lost her courage and flung the little bottle
in the old woman's face. Somehow, her dream of having a Mujar child
had been tarnished by the crone's hideous ideas and vile
insinuations as to the use such a child could be put, as far
removed from Talsy's wishes as ice was from fire. She had no
remorse about deceiving the loathsome woman, and at least the piece
of flower could not be put to that low purpose now.

Schooling her
features, she pushed through the door and almost bumped into
Kieran, who stood on the doorstep, his hand raised to open it.
Brushing past him, she hurried up the street, leaving him to grab
the bags and follow. He caught up and fell into step beside her,
studying her profile.

"I was
beginning to think you'd been abducted in there. What took you so
long?"

"None of your
business."

Kieran's brows
rose. "Don't tell me, you bought a fertility token, didn't you? One
of those silly dolls stuffed with rice and pigeon's blood. How can
you believe in that claptrap? And Chanter's never going to allow
it, you know -"

"Shut up!"

"What?" he
mocked, "Am I too close to the mark? A love potion, perhaps? It'll
never work on a Mujar. No drug works on them. You wasted your
money, or should I say, our money -"

"Kieran." She
stopped and swung to face him. "You're wrong, but it's none of your
business, like I said, so quit making stupid guesses."

He stared at
her as she strode away, swearing softly. "You really did get
something like that, didn't you? How stupid are you, exactly?
Chanter's going to be very disappointed in you. Next you'll be
asking him to marry you."

"I already
did."

He trotted
after her, grabbed her arm and swung her to face him. "What did he
say?"

She jerked
free. "He said no! Are you happy now?"

"Yes, actually
I am. What do you think you are? You're a Trueman, and he's Mujar!
Damn it, he doesn't even find you attractive!"

Talsy slapped
him with all her strength, jerking his head to the side and
bringing a drop of blood to the corner of his mouth. "Don't say
that! He loves me as I love him, and nothing will ever come between
us!"

"Except your
stupidity!" he called after her as she marched away. "It won't
work, whatever it is. It had better not!"

Talsy almost
ran through the city gates, her fleeing form followed by the
curious stares of the bored guards who watched Kieran storm after
her with mild interest. She navigated the tar web, heading for the
forest. Somehow, Kieran's remarks had wiped away the horror the
avaricious old woman had instilled in her and replaced it with a
firmer resolve. She composed her expression before she reached the
waiting Mujar and the Aggapae, but Kieran's angry visage, with its
red mark on one cheek, told the whole story.

Chanter
studied them with a slight frown. "You two been fighting
again?"

"She went to
-" Kieran started to explain, and Talsy flew at him, pushing him
backwards into a bush.

"One word out
of you," she said, "and I'll make your life a living hell!"

"Fine!" he
growled. "But it won't work, mark my words."

"What won't
work?" Chanter enquired.

"Ask her."
Kieran hauled himself out of the bush, brushing twigs and leaves
from his clothing.

Chanter gazed
at Talsy as she scrambled onto her horse, but when she remained
tight-lipped he shrugged and led the party into the forest. Mujar
were never ones for prying, especially into Trueman business.

Talsy pondered
the revelation of Mujar procreation in all its amazing complexity,
longing to bombard Chanter with questions. The ramifications of
Chanter's origins were not lost on her. The sheer strangeness of
his birth sent shivers through her. What manner of being was a
flesh and blood creature born of a plant? How was it possible? If
only she knew more about it. The only person who could answer her
questions was Chanter, but how could she ask him without revealing
what she had done?

Kieran fumed
at Talsy's foolishness, torn by jealousy and pity for the love
struck girl. As Sheera had pointed out, there was little that was
sadder than a doomed love, and a love between two unrelated races
was doomed for sure. Kieran could not hate the Mujar, for he was
not to blame, but resolved to warn Chanter at the first
opportunity.

Chanter
dismissed the spat between Talsy and Kieran as unimportant. He
listened to the wind, sifting through its many messages for any
that might warn of trouble ahead, and tried to sense the Dargon in
the earth below. Since leaving the valley, he had not come across a
single earth spirit or forest Kuran. Their absence meant that the
sickness in the land was already great enough to drive the spirits
deep into the earth for protection. The Kuran had retreated far
into the wildest parts of their forests, even abandoning their war
with Truemen in their fear of the coming chaos.

Two days
passed before Kieran had a chance to speak to the Mujar in private.
As usual, when the journey ended in the afternoon the three Aggapae
warriors went hunting, and Shan disappeared in search of firewood.
Now Talsy had gone down to the river to bathe, partly due to
Kieran's comments about her smell. In truth she had little, but he
wished to be alone with Chanter, and he knew that his barbed
remarks would hit home with a sensitive Trueman girl in love with a
Mujar.

Chanter was
perched on a fallen tree, rubbing his stump, when Kieran approached
and sat close by.

"I think you
should know that Talsy purchased some sort of love charm or potion
in that city."

The Mujar
glanced at him and smiled. "You fear for me?"

"No. I just
thought you should be warned. I don't know what it is, but she
seems to think it will work." He fiddled with a twig in
embarrassment. "Is there anything that would?"

"No." Chanter
looked down and frowned. "Well, there is, but no Lowman could
possibly have it."

"She knows
potions and poisons won't work on Mujar. Does she know what
would?"

"No."

"Would you
like me to... take it from her?"

Chanter
chuckled. "No, leave her be. You'll only make her angry, and next
time perhaps she'll give you a black eye instead of a thick lip.
Whatever it is, it won't work."

"You said
there's something that would work, what's that?"

"That's
forbidden knowledge." The Mujar sighed. "Talsy is a most determined
girl, and she only wants what every Lowman girl wants from the man
she loves. Her crazy ideas are born out of love for me, this
strange love you people have for your opposite sex, which Mujar
will never understand."

"Or feel."

"No," Chanter
agreed.

"You'll hurt
her."

"Unfortunately, I probably will, but there's nothing anyone can do
about that."

Kieran stood
up, brushing the seat of his pants. "I just thought you ought to
know."

"Yes."
Chanter's eyes flicked past Kieran, who turned as Talsy emerged
from the trees. Her skin glowed and her wet hair shone in the
setting sun's soft light. She shot him a suspicious glance, and he
excused himself to take his turn in the river.

After Kieran
left, Talsy sat beside Chanter and combed her hair so it would dry
in the fading warmth of the sun's rays.

"What did
Kieran want?"

"Nothing."

"What were you
talking about?"

"Things of no
importance."

She sighed in
frustration. Chanter stared into space, turning his head every so
often, as if harkening to distant music that only he could
hear.

She put down
her comb, curious. "What are you doing?"

"Listening to
the wind."

She frowned.
"I can't hear anything."

"The voices of
the spirits are silent when they're not near. Only Mujar can hear
them."

"What do they
say?"

"Many things.
They count the waves that come to shore from the Whispering Sea and
tell the deeds of Lowmen far away. They speak of storms gathering
in the mountains, rain falling on the forests and the changing of
the world."

Talsy resumed
her combing. "How far is it to the Whispering Sea?"

"Another
week's journey." Chanter rose and stretched, yawning, then headed
towards the river.

"Where are you
going?" Talsy called.

"To wash."

"You don't
need to."

He turned and
smiled, shrugging. "Everybody else is."

The vast
expanse of glittering blue ocean stretched away to meet the sky.
Gulls mewed and dived into rushing waves frosted with pale plumes
of spume. Breakers crashed and hissed on the beach, grinding stones
to sand with their endless motion, like a washer woman scrubbing
her linen on river stones. The sea's army of waves marched to shore
in infinite ragged lines, great swells born in the ocean's depths
that fell exhausted upon the beach, their power spent in travelling
the sea's vastness to reach it. As each failed wave drew back into
the ocean, it sucked the sand with it in a soft whispering that the
crashing of the next wave drowned out.