Motherstone (5 page)

Time stretched out like rubber. It snapped back and stung him. How long had gone by? Why did the world turn end over end, and sea and sky close like the pages of a book? A weightless dark, a warmth like eiderdowns, and somewhere, far off, whistling wind, and creaking like the saddles of trotting horses.

He woke slowly, waking without pain. First there was purple, very dull. Then a face, white, blue-eyed, framed with hair turned like polished wood. She smiled at him and brushed liquid silver from her cheek. He was not sure she was real, but tried to speak her name, and felt the ugly dryness of his mouth. She placed her hand on it, stopped his croaking, and fed a spoon of oil between his lips. Oil like honey. It let him smile and freed his tongue.

‘Soona?’

‘Yes, Nick. Nicholas Quinn. We had no time to talk in the arena, but I remember how you ran to save us, and how you faced the Priest, and conjured up the Birdfolk in the sky. It has been a great joy to nurse you back to health.’

‘Am I – is this – are we in the Temple?’

‘Yes. Though we call it by other names. It is Hall. Hall of Justice. People’s Hall.’

‘And this – this room?’

‘Is where the priests kept me prisoner. Where Susan climbed with the stone-silk gloves.’

‘Have you found her?’

‘Oh, Nick. Even in your sickness you told us where to go. Words all broken up, but we put them together. Birdfolk went out – Silverwing and Yellowclaw, and hundreds, hundreds. Birdfolk.’

‘And? Did you find her?’

‘Once. Once she was there. And then she was gone. And seen no more. But they are searching. If she can be found they will find her.’

He saw from her grieving face she did not believe it. She placed her hand on his forehead, where it lay cool as stone. ‘Don’t talk any more. You must sleep. Perhaps when you wake we’ll have news.’ She tried to smile, but a new tear trickled on her face. ‘I knew her only one day and a half, but in that time she became my sister.’

‘What do you mean, was there, then was gone?’

‘When you wake the Birdfolk will be returned. They will tell you.’

‘How did they find me? How long have I been here? Let me up. I’ve got to find her.’

He tried to climb out of the bed but found he was too weak. She held him down with a hand on his chest.

‘Soon you can go. The Woodlander cures are strong. They brought you back from the edge of death. Another day, two days, and you can get up. But not yet.’

‘I’ve been here – how long?’

‘Six days. Seven nights.’

He was appalled. What had happened to Susan in such a time? ‘They were only going to keep her until they thought they were safe.’

‘We know. You spoke. Sleep a little while. Perhaps …’

She slipped the spoon between his lips and darkness filled him like a liquid rising, and with it came a sense of peace that was – wrong, wrong. Susan was not safe … But he let that go, he had to, and he slept, and when he woke Soona was by his bed, and Silverwing the Birdwoman stood like coloured paper, an origami giant, at the foot.

‘Silverwing. Have you …?’

‘Not yet, Nick. But the search goes on.’

‘Are you looking in the right place? North?’

‘We’re looking everywhere. Mountain, forest, swamp. Land and sea.’

‘In the Hotlands?’

‘As far as we can fly.’

‘What did Soona mean, she was there, then was gone?’

‘It was four days ago. One of our searching parties in the north, where the sands turn red – they saw men and women, and a girl, a captive, roped. It was Susan.’

‘She was alive?’

‘Alive. When they flew low the guards held a knife at her throat. So there was nothing they could do. Yellowclaw and I flew to join them. We pleaded, we bargained. We offered riches, power. But they held us at bowshot and made no answer. Their leader cried to us, “Vermin, stay off or she dies.” Then, no more. We kept them in sight. But they turned off the sands into the jungle, into valleys, and night came. So we lost them. And no searching has uncovered them. It is a place where nature and creation have gone mad. Jungles, swamps, lakes that boil, chasms that spout steam. And sands, and lava, hills that melt before you, hills that grow overnight and vanish in a day. Whole armies could hide there.’

‘They won’t need her any more.’

‘There are other sands to cross. They fear us, Nick. They will keep her.’

‘Was she – did she seem all right?’ It was a foolish question. He writhed in the bed, and Soona placed her hand on his shoulder to keep him still. ‘They called to her, Nick. Yellowclaw called.’

‘Yellowclaw told her you were alive,’ Silverwing said. ‘He cried out that you had escaped. Then the leader, the tall one, beat a woman, kicked her – she, I suppose, who hunted you. Our eyes are sharp. We can see beetles on stone from mountain height. Tears ran on Susan’s face.’

Great, great, Nick thought. Everyone’s crying, no one’s saving her. But he could think of nothing he might do. ‘Are humans searching as well as Birdfolk?’

‘Yes,’ Soona said. ‘My father has sent as many as he can spare.’

‘Kenno?’

‘He is Chief Minister. He has sent a party of a dozen men, but it will be days yet before they reach the place where she was seen.’

‘A dozen? Is that all?’

A blush of shame rose on Soona’s cheeks. ‘There are many things to do. Bands of roving priests to hunt. The army to organize. Roads to build. Temples to pull down. And men, administrators, to send out all over the land. They must have escorts. And so …’

‘Susan comes second.’

Soona raised her eyes. ‘Yes. With my father. Don’t blame him. He has a land to run. He works all the day and half the night. There is so much to do. But with me she is not second, she is first.’

‘And with the Birdfolk,’ Silverwing said.

‘Has someone sent for Jimmy?’

‘He and Ben the Varg came back and joined the search. They are with Yellowclaw in the north.’

‘I want to see Jimmy. I want to join them.’

‘Soon,’ Silverwing said. ‘When you are stronger. Birdfolk will carry you in a nest.’

Nick turned to Soona. ‘When can I go?’

‘You nearly died, Nick. Don’t be impatient.’

‘You should have died,’ Silverwing said. ‘Cuts and bruises all over you. And burning with fever. Babbling nonsense.’

‘Where was I?’

‘By a gorge on a river. Someone had lit a fire on the other side, but it was cold. Two days cold.’

‘I lay that long? Two days?’

‘And would have died there but for your signalling.’

‘I signalled?’

‘Bird Warriors flying by the seashore saw a light flashing far inland. On and off it went in the setting sun, a tiny light. They flew to it – Birdfolk are curious – and found a boy sitting on a cliff. Half-naked, he was, and feverish, and burned by sun, and croaking, “Water.” But in his hands he held a knife – a priest knife with a polished blade – and he turned it to the sun, on and off, calling for help.’

‘I dreamed of flashing lights,’ Nick said.

‘They tended you and put you in a nest and brought you here, and Soona nursed you with her Woodlander skills. We listened to your babble and learned of Susan – ’

‘And Osro?’

‘Who?’

‘Did I tell you about their leader?’

‘You spoke of renegade priests in the cave, and travelling north, and riding on a river. And danger to Susan. Only that.’

Nick sat up in the bed. ‘I’ve got to see Kenno.’

Soona tried to push him down. ‘You’re not well enough.’

‘You don’t know who their leader is. He says he’s king. He’s worse than the High Priest. He’s worse than Otis Claw. He’s got a Weapon …’ He got out of bed and tried to stand, but nearly fell. His head seemed to roll like a melon, heavily. He sat down. ‘Please, I’ve got to tell Kenno.’

‘I’ll bring him,’ Silverwing said. She went from the room, and Soona made him lie and covered him. His head was rolling still, into corners, bruising on walls. He felt a spoon slipped into his mouth; and dimly he saw Soona place something to her own lips and move her fingers on it. Music, flute-notes. Darkness rose again. He slept.

When he woke, sharp familiar eyes were peering at him.

‘Limpy,’ he said. But was it Limpy? Anxiety was gone from that face and the gleam on it was confident and strict.

‘You don’t look very well, Nicholas Quinn.’

‘I’m O.K. Where’s your father? I’ve got to talk to him.’

‘Oh? Get him. Like that? I don’t take orders, Nick. I’m more than Limpy the fisherboy now.’

Nick looked at him more closely and saw his eagerness to be important. ‘I thought we were friends.’

‘Perhaps. But I have work. I am busy now.’

‘What do you do?’

‘I am assistant to the Chief Minister. His counsellor.’

‘You should be out sailing on a boat. You loved the sea.’

‘That was when I was a boy. Now I am a man. I help rule the land. So tell me your message. I’ll give it to my father if he needs to know.’

There was something sad about him, this fisherboy playing counsellor. Nick spoke less sharply than he wanted to. ‘I know a man who calls himself king. Tell your father that. Tell him he’s got a Weapon that’ll knock your armies flat.’

‘What? What’s this?’

‘Just go and do it.’

‘Go boy. Do as he says,’ Silverwing cried.

Limpy looked angrily at her, but Soona came and pulled him away from the bed. ‘Limpy, go. Please. Tell our father. Nick doesn’t tell lies.’

Limpy freed his arm. ‘You listen too much to people who do not belong on O.’ He turned to Nick. ‘I’ll take your message. But don’t try to be my friend. I have better friends.’ He went out, trailing his bad leg.

Soona sat on the bed and felt Nick’s forehead. ‘You are hot. He has made you angry. Don’t blame him, Nick. People laughed at him because he limped, and put him to tasks he felt unworthy. But he is brave. And clever. He went to Earth and brought Susan back. And now he is important. My father listens to him.’

‘Is your father so important?’

Soona looked troubled. ‘He has been chosen Chief Minister. It does not make him happy.’

Silverwing came from the door. ‘This man who calls himself king? Who is he?’

‘Wait till Kenno comes,’ Nick said. ‘I don’t want to tell it twice. Soona, will you play your flute again?’

The music calmed him, made him think of old times, of floating on the sea, and walking at night. Later in the morning, Kenno came. Nick had hardly known him, and scarcely recognized the blunt and grizzled fisherman in this anxious busy visitor. Yet he was kind, Nick saw it. He sat on the bed and asked his daughter how the patient was, and listened when she answered. Then he said, ‘I’m sorry O has captured you again. Our world has been unkind to you and Susan, Nicholas Quinn.’

‘It’s not your fault. As soon as I can get up I want to look for her.’

‘Of course. And I promise you, any who have harmed her will be punished.’

‘I don’t want revenge. I just want to take Susan home.’

‘Yes. I’ll help. But I can’t stay now. There is so much to do governing O. Tell me about this man who calls himself king. There are many such – kings, emperors, saviours, wizards, madmen. The times breed them. But the people rule. The Council rules. And we must stop these evils before they spread.’

‘This one’s special. He’s got a Weapon.’

‘What weapon? Who is he? The Birdfolk said some renegade, some ragged criminal.’

‘Not him. He was a Candidate.’

‘They’re dead. All dead.’

‘Not Osro.’

Soona started. She gave a cry. ‘He was the mad one. He hummed tunes all the time and dribbled on his chin. But – ’

‘Yes?’ Kenno said.

‘His eyes were cunning. He seemed to be enjoying it.’

‘He was pretending,’ Nick said. ‘It was his way of staying alive. And he was plotting. He was going to murder the High Priest and take over.’

‘Impossible,’ Kenno said. He turned to Limpy at the door. ‘What happened to him?’

‘We did not bother to hunt him. He was mad. He still is mad, to call himself king.’

‘His followers believe him. They’d die for him,’ Nick said.

Limpy laughed. ‘All ten of them.’

‘Still, we must know of it,’ Kenno said. ‘And his Weapon. What is it, Nick? Some bow that carries further? Some blade that cuts more deeply? We can make those, too.’

‘Fire,’ Nick said.

‘Fire?’

‘Some sort of ray. Or flame-thrower. He said it would burn your armies like a field of corn.’

‘Crazy talk.’

‘They have them on Earth.’

‘Earth is not O. Fire is not thrown, or shot into the air like an arrow. The man is mad.’

‘Father,’ Soona said, ‘in the old tales, in the songs, they speak of vapours, minerals, that throw out flames when they are brought together. And feed on men like beasts.’

‘Rhymers’ nonsense. Stuff for the heads of women.’

Silverwing stepped forward. ‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘But in our ancient books there’s talk of such. Conjunctions of stone that flare like the sun. It is hidden in symbol and mystery. Forbidden knowledge.’

Kenno stirred impatiently. ‘This wastes my time. Nick, did Osro say where he would go?’

‘To the Hotlands.’

‘Why?’

‘To raise an army. He said the tribes would follow him. They had a treaty.’

‘The Hotland tribes are savages. They eat human flesh,’ Limpy cried.

‘They shave their bodies bare and paint themselves bright blue and brighter red. They worship sticks and stones,’ Kenno said. ‘Gods in mountains, gods in the trees.’

Soona had gone pale. ‘But most they worship fire,’ she said. ‘Their great god is fire.’ She held them silent as she looked at them. ‘And Osro brings it. Fire to burn up armies. To burn O.’

Kenno was the first to recover. ‘You listen to the Woodlanders too much. It turns your head. Osro is a madman. He has some toy that spits out flame – if he has that. Our armies will crush these savages he brings. Crush him, too. Limpy, come. Nick, get well. Find Susan and take her home to Earth. There is no more you can do on O.’ He started for the door.

‘Wait,’ Nick said. Kenno stopped. ‘Osro had a paper with his calculations on it. Equations and so on.’

‘For his Weapon?’

‘Yes. He was doing them again. That means he must have done them before. And done experiments.’