The Canticle of Whispers (3 page)

“Yes, that is something that we would all appreciate, Mr. Mark.”

The voice came from the top of the stairs. Mark looked up.

Again, Mark marveled at how much someone could change in over a year. Laudate, known to his friends as Laud, had never been a particularly cheerful young man, but the pressures of running the Temple Almshouse had really taken their toll. His long red hair was unkempt, and there was a scar above one eye from an old wound. Now that Mark had a chance to look at him properly, he could see a wariness in his tread that went beyond his usual cynicism. This was a young man who was used to the world dealing cruel blows, and his attitude at the moment was distinctly hostile.

“I think that you owe it to us, don't you?” Laud said, bitterly. “Call it payment for hiding you from every receiver in the city. Or didn't you know that they're scouring every back street from here to the Aquarian dockyards looking for you?” He cast a cursory glance at Cherubina as he descended the stairs. “They don't name you, of course, but it's pretty clear from the descriptions that you and Mrs. Snutworth are the fugitives.”

Cherubina bristled, but Mark laid a hand on her arm. Laud was not the most tactful host.

“Like I said,” Mark repeated, “I was being held prisoner, in the old Astrologer's Tower, by Snutworth. And now I find I have to call him the Director…”

“I still find that hard to believe,” Laud muttered. “Surely everyone would know if the old Director had been replaced?”

“Really, Laud?” Theo asked, reasonably. “We never saw the last one in public at all. I don't suppose it would be too surprising.” He frowned, pulling forward another stool for Laud. “You worked with Mr. Snutworth. Would you put such a thing past him?”

Laud conceded that with a shake of the head.

“Perhaps, but I don't see why he had to hold Mark prisoner in his own home.” He turned back to Mark, looking a little more ready to listen. “You should still be in jail. When you disappeared last year, we didn't know what to think. Tell us what happened. Right from the beginning.”

Mark stood up, trying to gather his thoughts.

“I've been outside the city,” he said.

The stunned silence said it all. Even Laud couldn't hide his astonishment.

“That's impossible,” Theo said, dully. “There's nothing outside the city. Everyone knows that.”

Mark sighed.

“That's what I believed too…”

After that, it came pouring out. How he and Lily, his oldest friend, had been forced to leave Agora. About the strange woman who had plucked him from his prison cell, and the care of his long-lost father, to send him out into a strange new world. About the land outside—Giseth—a place of thick forests and lush farms, where all the people lived in harmony, with everyone sharing and no one set above anyone else. How they had taken refuge in the idyllic village of Aecer, and how they had discovered that this supposed “paradise” was maintained by the tyrannical rituals of the Order of the Lost, the red-robed monks, and the absolute power of each village's leader—the Speaker. He told them how he had seen their friends terrorized and attacked for going against the will of the Speaker, and about the mystical Brethren who opposed the monks and had given him and Lily shelter in the forest when Aecer had turned against them. But above all, he told them of the Nightmare—the living dream that haunted the lands. About how it seeped into people's minds when they were asleep, feeding off every suppressed thought and deed, until it drove them insane.

As he spoke, he watched the others' faces. The patients down here were too ill to listen, or at least didn't react if they understood. Cherubina just looked confused; he supposed she was still reeling from their escape. Theo's frown deepened, but he nodded in understanding. Laud's expression, on the other hand, tightened, his lip curling back.

“And I suppose you think we'll fall for this, do you?” he said, suddenly, stopping Mark's story in its tracks.

“I know it's … pretty amazing…” Mark ventured, but Laud cut him off with a bark of sarcastic laughter.

“It's completely ridiculous!” Laud said, scornfully. “Do you honestly expect us to believe that everything we've ever known about the world is a lie? That there's some kind of living Nightmare waiting outside the city walls?”

“Well of course,” Mark replied, his face flushing with anger. “Maybe you should ask the woman next door who bottles people's emotions for a living! What would be the point of me lying to you, Laud?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe because you don't want us to ask the most important question,” he said, darkly. “Tell us, Mark, what happened to Lily?”

Mark froze. Lily had told him so much about the temple, her almshouse, he had nearly forgotten that he barely knew these people. Not anymore. He had worked with Theo and Laud, but at heart they were Lily's friends, and he had come back without her.

“I…” his throat went dry. “I don't know. The Director—that is, the old Director—told her that her parents were out there somewhere. In Giseth. She was always looking for clues. In the end, the Brethren taught us how to use the Nightmare to find them.”

“This same Nightmare that fed off people's dark emotions?” Laud said, caustically. “That sounds like a wonderful plan.”

“But it worked!” Mark protested. “The Nightmare doesn't just feed—it links together people's memories … or something like that. To be honest, I never really understood completely. But we went into it, together, and we found that Lily's father lived in the Cathedral of the Lost, the stronghold of the monks, and we were all set to go there until…”

There was a silence. No one seemed willing to fill it.

“Until the monks kidnapped me, and brought me back to Agora,” Mark said, quietly. “From what Cherubina told me, it looks like it was one of the first things Snutworth arranged when he became the new Director.”

“He let me keep all of my dolls,” Cherubina added, softly. “Except the one I made to look like you, Mark. I think you're more of a threat to him than he likes to admit.”

More silence. Laud got up to pace back and forth. Theo sat, brooding in thought.

“So…” Theo said at last, “she's alive. That's something, at least. All this time, not knowing…”

“Not knowing!” Laud interrupted, with a sudden rage. “What do we know now?! That she's somewhere outside the city, looking for her parents? Being tortured by bad dreams, or chased by psychotic monks! That's a
great
comfort.”

“She can look after herself,” Mark said, defensively. “Anyway, it's not as if there's no chance of finding her again. If the monks knew enough to bring me to Agora, that means there must be more who know how to get past the city walls…”

“Good luck with that,” Laud snarled, bitterly. “With half the receivers on your trail, you won't be able to set foot outdoors. Lily's going to need more help than you…”

“I
will
find her!” Mark said, more fiercely than he expected. “I don't care if I can only go out in the middle of the night, and have to crawl through every building in Agora. Even if I have to break into the Directory itself. Someone has to know where she is. She didn't abandon me, and I won't give up on her!”

Mark found his fists clenched. Laud blinked. For the first time, he seemed lost for words.

“Absolutely,” he said, quietly. “I'm … glad to hear it.”

There was silence. Mark was surprised at how vehement his own response had been. But Laud's tone had gotten to him more than anything else. Up until now, he had been preoccupied with trying to escape the receivers. But he had never once stopped wondering what had happened to Lily. Laud had made it sound as if he didn't care.

“We all need to look,” Theo said, taking charge. “But first things first—none of us will be much help if we're locked up for harboring fugitives.”

“You're definitely sure that the receivers won't come back tonight?” Cherubina asked, anxiously. “I don't think I could stand crossing the city again before I sleep.”

Theo thought for a moment.

“You'll be fine for tonight, but we shouldn't keep you here too much longer,” he decided. “I'll ask around for anyone who has some rooms to let and doesn't ask too many questions. Perhaps the Sozinhos can help—they are our most loyal patrons, after all. I'll try for two separate places, to see if we can throw the receivers off the scent.”

Cherubina's eyes widened in alarm.

“But … you can't do that. I … I don't … that is…”

“She's never lived on her own before, Theo,” Mark explained. “She's never even traded for food. It'd be obvious she didn't belong there.”

Theo nodded.

“Very well, we'll have to choose a location very carefully then…”

Cherubina smiled across at Mark.

“Thank you,” she said, softly.

“You can't get rid of me that easily,” Mark said, feeling himself relax a little after all his worry. Cherubina looked as if she was about to reply, but at that moment, the door at the top of the stairs creaked open. Everyone turned, anxious.

“Ben! There you are!” Theo said, anxiously, “What were you doing out on the streets? There's a receiver on every corner…”

Theo's voice died away. Mark felt his heart jump. Ben was standing there, smiling excitedly, but she wasn't alone.

A heavyset man stood beside her in the doorway. He wasn't old, but every one of his forty summers was carved onto his face. His hair was touched with gray, and his hands shook, but in his eyes was a spark of hope that grew into joy as he saw Mark.

“Dad?” Mark said softly, barely believing it.

The old jailer walked down the stairs. Without really noticing it, the others stepped out of his way. Mark got up.

“I knew you'd come home,” said Pete. “But when Miss Benedicta came and found me, I didn't … I didn't believe…”

Pete's voice cracked. Mark smiled, but when he tried to speak, his throat wouldn't make the sounds.

He was trapped in a city he no longer loved, far from a friend who desperately needed him. He was being hunted by the receivers and didn't know where to turn, or what to do, to prevent his entire world from falling apart. But just for a moment, none of that mattered at all, because his father was hugging him. The father he'd lost, and found, and lost again.

And this time, he wasn't going anywhere.

 

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

Fugitives

“
W
HERE DO YOU
come from?”

“What's it like?”

“Is it under the sun?”

Lily tried to concentrate. The two strangers never stopped bombarding her with questions, their eyes so round and curious that they seemed like little children, even though they appeared to be a few years older than her.

At least she assumed that they were adults—the man's voice was deep enough—but their skin was pale and utterly smooth, without wrinkle or blemish. They dressed like children too; their robes were loose and garishly colored, covered with broad clashing stripes. Their hair was long, tangled, and so blonde it was nearly white, and their dark eyes were startlingly wide as they prattled. But perhaps the most unnerving thing was how alike they were, in their movements and manner. Had she not heard both of them speak, she would have been hard pressed to say which was male, and which female.

“Are you alone?

“Who are you? Really?”

“How did you get down here?”

Lily tried to talk again, but the questions came thick and fast, and she couldn't focus for long enough to answer a single one. She thought about thanking them for finding her, but it didn't seem at all clear that they were going to assist her in any way. Certainly neither had offered to help her up. In fact, as she struggled to her feet, she noticed them pull back, as though she were dangerous.

“There's no need … I mean … I'm not going to hurt you,” Lily said, feeling ridiculous. That was painfully obvious. Her whole body ached. She didn't know how long she had slept on the rough stone floor after she collapsed from exhaustion. Her limbs still shook, though that was only partly from tiredness. But this one sentence was enough to make them stop talking, and stare at her expectantly.

Unfortunately, in the new quiet, she could hear the noise in the background. The distant, echoing voices.

For a few moments, it came back to her. That long, terrible climb down those stone steps, without light, always thinking that her next movement would pitch her down the shaft. And all around her, the voices. Those wailing, cajoling voices that seemed to come from everywhere. In the world above, she had spent night after night running through a living Nightmare that had peeled apart her subconscious thought by thought. And yet somehow that shaft had been worse because of the confusion. All she had been able to make out was her name.
Lily … Lily … Lily …
over and over again until it lost all meaning. It had felt like her whole world was filling with noise.

At some point, she had reached the bottom of the well, and left the stone steps behind. Later, she remembered stumbling through tunnels of rock, her legs jarring on the rough floor, only able to tell where she was from the change of pressure around and above her when the tunnels narrowed, or opened out into caves. And still the echoes had grown, louder and louder, shouting in her ears. As she had tripped and fallen, she had felt as though she were on the verge of comprehension, just a few seconds away from understanding what they were demanding of her. But then the ground came up to meet her, and finally the sounds had been snuffed out.

“Are you listening to anything I'm saying, Wonder?”

Lily snapped out of her thoughts. There wasn't time to dwell on all of that now. These two were strange, no doubt, but they didn't seem dangerous. Besides, they had lanterns. Lily didn't want to be left alone in the dark again.