5 Should I tell him or not?

When I awoke and opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the strange flattened face of a child. He had very light blue, slanted eyes and skin as black as night.

“You’re new,” he said.

It was not a question, it was an observation. At that instant, Slaryn woke up, saw me, and let out a gasp before sitting up abruptly.

“Good mother! Who are you?”

Her long, disheveled red hair surrounded a thin, dark blue face with very green eyes enlarged by surprise. She was obviously a dark elf. Quickly, I sat down and hesitated for a moment before answering:

“Good morning. I am Draen.”

Slaryn looked at me thoughtfully without answering, but Yerris smiled as he uncovered white teeth.

“Good morning. I’m Yerris. And this is Slaryn the Solitary. Where did you come from?”

“Well, you see… Yal said he was going to take care of me,” I explained. “And that he was going to give me snacks and teach me lots of things. He also said you were going to teach me because… I’m from the valley, and there’s a lot of things I don’t know. For instance, I’d never seen a loaf of bread before I came here.”

Slaryn laughed in disbelief.

“For real?”

“Well, yes. In the mountains, there’s no such thing,” I explained.

“And what did you use to eat then?” the girl asked.

“Well… roots, rabbits, crayfish, and berries. Things like that.”

“Wow, wow,” Yerris let out. He leapt to his feet. “So, you’re a real mountain kid. Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am Yerris the Black Cat. Some say that mixing gnome blood with dark elf blood gives bad results, but,” he pointed to himself with a proud gesture, “here’s proof to the contrary. You could not have found a better guide to explore the civilized world. Onward,” he added as he moved away toward the door. “Leave that bag behind, we won’t steal it. And put on your cap, you don’t want your ears to freeze.”

I got up, took the cap which Rolg had left me, and put it on like the half-gnome. The three of us went out of the Den. It was a spring day, and the sun was already shining on the Cat Quarter in a greyish but warm light.

“Come on, come on,” Yerris urged me. “You know?” he said to me as we left the small courtyard. “You got a good mentor. Yal’s only sixteen, he’s almost like a comrade, and besides, they say he’s one of the best Black Daggers in the brotherhood. And I assure you it’s true! Last fall, to become officially a member, he entered a noble house in the Citadel and took a hundred goldies. He gave fifty to the brotherhood, but do you know what he did with the other fifty? He bought gifts for all the saris. Well, he bought a hat for himself. One of those top hats. Hey, he bought me a harmonica. I’m the best musician in Estergat, I must say. I’m hardly exaggerating, I’ll give you a demonstration later… Oh, here’s Rarko. Ayo, Rarko!” he cried. I saw him raise a hand to a boy sitting on the threshold of a house. “How’s it going, mate?”

“Wind in the sails! And you?” the boy called Rarko replied.

Yerris responded with a thumbs up and continued, lowering his voice:

“Well, as I was telling you, shyur, everybody likes Yal. You’re a lucky bastard. Because, believe me, my mentor is far from giving me gifts. That guy doesn’t know what it means to be a social person. Fortunately, right now, he’s on a trip, somewhere, hunting for treasures or negotiating with some colleague from another city—Whatever, I don’t know. In any case, it means I’ll have some free days to teach you how to be a good Estergatese!”

With some amazement, I looked alternately at the street and at Yerris’ hyperactive lips. The semi-gnome kept talking and telling stories about the brotherhood, the city, and whatever else came into his head. He had a peculiar gait, zigzagging, spinning around, and occasionally greeting an acquaintance with grand gestures. Slaryn, on the other hand, was silent and kept watching me; I saw her smile two or three times with a mocking face, but I do not know whether she was mocking me or Yerris.

In some street, we came across a group of girls, and Slaryn left us, saying to Yerris:

“Hey, watch what you teach the newbie, I know you: you’re capable of sending him to the slammer on the first day.”

“Bad tongues! You look more and more like your slowed mother every day!” Yerris replied.

The dark elf glared at him and hissed:

“Watch your mouth!”

Yerris sighed and brought a fist to his chest.

“My apologies, princess, my tongue betrayed me.” Slaryn rolled her eyes, and the semi-gnome pulled me away from the girls, whispering, “Sla’s mother is in the slammer, and she doesn’t want anyone to know. So… watch your mouth!” he bantered to me.

And he continued to speak. First, we walked through the alleys of the Cats, then Yerris stopped before a narrow staircase and commented:

“No, it’s too early for that, it might scare him.”

And he turned back. It was only after we had gone a good distance that I realized that Yerris had been about to enter that dangerous Labyrinth Yal had told me about. My curiosity was aroused, but I dared not interrupt the semi-gnome’s continuous flow of words. In a way, it was wonderful to listen to him. It was a little dizzying, especially as I could only understand a tenth of what he was saying, but his loquacity fascinated me.

The semi-gnome led me down Tarmil Avenue to the Esplanade, where he bought me a bun from his own pocket, and we ate sitting on the huge white stoop that surrounded the Capitol. I was enjoying the moment of silence, contemplating the people and sorting out my thoughts, when Yerris asked me with his mouth full:

“And what did you use to do in the valley?”

I swallowed. I didn’t think much about the answer, since Yerris had already asked me a few questions before without giving me time to answer.

“I don’t know… things. I went hunting. And played with squirrels.”

Yerris looked at me, eyes wide open.

“For real? Damn. And you used to hunt squirrels too?”

“I didn’t!” I said, offended.

“Ah. Well, if you like squirrels, you must like trees too, then?”

“I do, I like them very much,” I assured him.

“No, no, no, you mean, ‘ragingly’,” he corrected me, kindly. “It sounds more Cat-like and clearer.”

“All right, ragingly,” I said.

“Uh… That runs,” Yerris pointed out. “We don’t say okay, we say ‘that runs’ or ‘runs for me’.” Seeing me nod and take in his lessons, he patted my shoulder with a smile. “Thunders. I’ll cut off my hand if you don’t become a Cat in less than a moon. Come on, let’s go. I’ll show you the Evening Park. You’ll like it, for sure.”

I liked it ragingly. There were trees, and I saw a fountain of golden water and a red bird I had never seen before.

“Over there, at the back, is the Wild Garden,” Yerris told me. “But my pockets don’t weigh enough to pay the entrance. Alvon, my master, is a first-class cheapskate. And since I’m not allowed to dive into other people’s pockets, well, as you see, I’m as skinny as you, Rarko, Syrdio, or any other gwak on the street. Skinny but honest,” he smiled.

We spent the afternoon in that park, and Yerris gave me a demonstration of his skill with the harmonica. I couldn’t be sure how well he played it, but it sounded nice, and the instrument looked even nicer. He let me blow once, just once, but it made me euphoric. Who would have thought that one day I would be able to make a sound like that, so strange, and with my own breath! Amused by my enthusiasm, Yerris took me by the shoulders with obvious affection and said it was time to move on, so we returned to the Cat Quarter. Without him, I think I would have been unable to find Rolg’s house. There were so many streets, so many corners! When we came to the small courtyard, Yerris stopped his chatter, straightened up, spun round, and said,

“I’m leaving you at home, shyur, I have business to attend to. Tell me. Did you enjoy the walk?”

I nodded vigorously and said:

“Ragingly!”

Yerris looked at me approvingly.

“Then, tomorrow, I’ll give you another ride. Runs for you?”

I smiled.

“Runs for me. Thank you, Yerris.”

The dark face of the semi-gnome lit up with a white smile.

“You’re welcome. Old cats teach kittens: it’s the law of nature. Ayo.”

“Ayo,” I replied, and I saw him trotting off down the street again, this time in a straight line. When he was gone, I turned to the Den, climbed the wooden stairs quickly, and entered.

There was no one in the room. I took a few steps towards the other door, listened, and heard nothing.

“Rolg?” I called out.

No one answered me. I reached for the handle, turned… And the door resisted. Closed, I understood. The doors opened and closed. My master had told me that. And I thought it was fortunate that it was closed, for I remembered at that moment one of the rules of the Den: one must not enter Rolg’s room.

I sat down on my pallet and checked that my yellow feather was still in the bag. There was not much left in it. My supplies were long gone, and all that was left was the bone, the sharp stone which I used for everything, and the remains of a dried flower I had picked on my journey. I threw these out and noticed that the sun would soon disappear. Suddenly, I saw a small, furry, four-legged animal at the end of the alley, and I opened my eyes wide when I recognized what it was. A cat! It had red and white fur, but it was much dirtier than the one in the storybook drawing. It looked like a small lynx. Fascinated, I descended the stairs, sank my feet into the mud, and moved forward cautiously; all of a sudden, the cat showed its teeth and gave a muffled growl.

I stopped and huffed.

“You have the same temper as a lynx. Conceited! Don’t growl at me like that, you bad lynx!”

I recoiled when I saw the cat take a step forward, but the feline merely took off like an arrow towards the ruined house across the small courtyard, jumped up, and disappeared through a broken window.

“Dart,” I muttered. Curiosity impelled me to approach the house where the cat had disappeared, but I dared not poke my head through the window. It was very dark in there. Who knows, maybe the cat had friends or maybe a lynx was looking after him. So, cautiously, I turned back and went up the stairs of the Den, and after listening to the rumor of the city, I pulled myself up the banister, sat astride it, and began to sing:

I heard an amused snort and turned. Yalet was at the foot of the stairs, arms crossed, and he was looking at me with a mocking smile.

“Hello, Draen.”

“Hello, Elassar,” I greeted him.

Yalet approached and went up the stairs saying:

“You shouldn’t leave the door open: the house cools down much faster, and it’s still spring, as you say. Anybody else at home?”

I shook my head, and noticing the curious stick he carried strapped to his back, I asked him curiously:

“What’s that?”

“This?” He smiled as he closed the door. “It’s a broom. And you’re definitely going to try it today. Come on, get down from there and follow me. How was your day? Did you get to talk with Yerris and Slaryn?”

I huffed and puffed my way down the ramp.

“I didn’t talk much, but I listened a lot. I like Yerris. Though he talks even more than I do, it’s impressive. To think my master said I was a blabbermouth… well, I wonder what he would say about him.”

Yalet laughed.

“Well, I’m glad you’re getting along with them. To tell you the truth, I personally don’t know much about them; lately, I don’t come by here much, but I know Yerris is quite a character.”

We left the courtyard, and I asked:

“Are we going to the peak?”

“Where?” Yal asked, puzzled.

“To the terrace,” I specified. “I called it the Peak, what do you think? Because from up there you can see everything, like when you’re on the peak of the valley. From there, you could see very high mountains in the distance. It took me days to get there, but every time I did, it was impressive, almost as impressive as the Peak from here.”

Yal nodded, amused.

“Okay then, let’s call it the Peak. And yes, that’s where we’re going. Today, you’re going to learn how to clean. It’s not the most exciting lesson, but… it’s necessary for us to be comfortable at the Peak, as you call it.”

He smiled, and when we reached the blind alley of the previous day, we began the climb. This time, I did better and managed to climb to the first roof without help. When we reached the top, Yalet began to explain:

“These things over there must all be piled up into a corner. Leave this here; I’ll arrange the awning, to protect us when the wind blows.”

We finished putting everything in order when there was hardly any light left in the sky, and while Yalet was fixing broken planks to one side of the awning, I wandered through the junk, poked around a bit, and finally climbed the wall to see Estergat in all its glory. I turned to the rich quarters. Then back to the Cats. How much more I had to explore! A city was much more tangled than a forest.

“Hey!”

I was startled to hear Yalet’s voice.

“Get down from there, damn it, you’re going to fall.”

I leapt onto the terrace and ran towards him.

“Did you finish the house?”

“More or less. Where did you put the broom?” I pointed to it. He went to pick it up and gently hit a box with it. “That will be your seat, and this one will be mine. Sit down. Tell me, do you already have some idea of what I’m going to teach you?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “You’ll teach me how to rob those nasty nail-pinching evil swells.”

Yal was about to sit down and he froze for a moment before he finished sitting down with a gasp.

“What?”

I bit my lip innocently.

“That’s what Yerris told me.”

Yalet cleared his throat.

“Um. Well… it’s not exactly that. I mean… it’s not just that. Listen, we Black Daggers make our living—how do I put it—not always in a very legal way, but morally, in a way, and well, whatever, I’m not going to give you ethics lessons. I just want you to know that we’re not criminals, we don’t assault anyone, we don’t kill, we don’t steal from the poor, and we don’t take any business that’s offered to us. That said, the first thing I’m going to teach you is to understand what kind of city you live in, I mean, what the world you live in is like, so that your innocence doesn’t get you into trouble with the guard or the Cats’ gangs, hmm? Then I’ll teach you the basics of what a Black Dagger should know. And… despite what some people say about scholars, I’d like to teach you to read as well.”

Read! I smiled and said:

“I already know how to read.”

Yal was stunned.

“What? You can read?”

“Yes, my master taught me. Well, a little. But… to tell the truth, I’m not sure,” I admitted with a sudden hesitation.

“Let’s be clear, do you know or not?” Yal asked impatiently.

“Well… I don’t know, Elassar. My master taught me to read three books, two were in Drionsan, and I thought with that, it was enough to be able to read, but today I saw the signs in the stores and I didn’t understand anything. So… I don’t know if I know.”

Yal cleared his throat.

“So you had three books? In the mountains? Well… Never mind, I’ll teach you if you’re willing to learn.”

“Of course, Elassar. I want to learn,” I said. “There are so many things I don’t know. I’ll be more attentive than an owl.”

Suddenly, I saw a light appear from nowhere, and I exclaimed. Light, I thought. Magic light. Yal leaned over and stared at me, holding a small orb of light in his hand.

“More attentive than an owl, eh?” he smiled. “Well, I hope so, sari, because you don’t know how much more you have to learn.”

And he was right, I had no doubt about that, and even less so at that moment.

“What magic is that?” I asked curiously.

My master had never told me of a magic that illuminated. Yal looked down at the light, and I feared he would destroy it, but he kept it on as he replied:

“Some call it deceptive magic, because they are illusions, altered waves. But we Black Daggers call them harmonies.” And he raised his other hand. “We can make light. And we can make shadows.”

His other hand was wrapped in darkness, and mouth agape, I stared at the orb of light and the orb of shadows.

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “That’s amazing!”

Yal smiled.

“It’s magic. Some scholars say that they are not celmist arts, that they are mere illusionist tricks. But they say that because, for them, harmonies are inferior arts compared to the arts of diserrance, invocation and all that. They are wrong, of course, but because of them, very few people know how to use harmonies. They don’t teach them at the Conservatory of Magicians. They think of them as… deceptive magic, as I say. But to us, Mor-eldal, it is a vital tool.”

He undid the harmonies, and the darkness of the night returned. He asked in a cheerful voice:

“Well, then, do you want to know how I did it?”

“You bet I do!” I assured him fervently. This magic of light and shadow had enthralled me.

“And you want to learn how to do it too, don’t you?” Yal continued, playfully.

I smiled and nodded.

“Well, yes. I want to learn. And believe me, I’m a fast learner because I listen better than a squirrel. My master says it’s not true, but it is true. Really.”

I could see his smile in the darkness. He replied:

“Do you know what jaypu is?”

“Pfft, of course I do. The internal energy of every living thing,” I replied with application. “My master says that, for most spells, it’s best to use it, because it helps you be stable and not end up like a rabbit in a trap.”

There was a silence. And then Yalet uttered a muffled gasp and half rose for a second, stammering:

“By all the Spirits, I can’t believe it! Your master was a magician?”

Oh, my, did I just blunder? No, I thought. How could telling Yal the truth be a blunder? This was my second Elassar, after all. So I nodded.

“He’s a magician. But he says he’s special. And that he doesn’t like visitors, which is why he told me never to talk about him.”

And I was doing exactly the opposite, I thought, suddenly embarrassed. After a brief silence, Yal cleared his throat and asked:

“What has this master taught you?” I felt in his voice a slight tremor of excitement and disbelief.

“He taught me things,” I replied.

“What kind of things?”

“Well…” I fidgeted nervously, remembering my master’s warnings more and more clearly. “A lot of things. He taught me a perceptist spell, to sense around me without needing my eyes to find food, but it consumes a lot of the energy stem and I don’t like it much. And he taught me to…”

I fell silent and lowered my head, undecided.

“To?” Yal encouraged in an inquisitive whisper.

Should I tell him or not? I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about this. But… what if my master was exaggerating? What if necromancy didn’t scare sajits so much anymore? I had to find out. I waddled in my seat, swallowed my saliva, and tried to think of a roundabout way to tell him, but I couldn’t think of anything, and since my master said that bad news were better to be told all at once than in dribs and drabs, I decided to blurt out the truth, just like that, in one go.

“He taught me how to use morjas. Especially that of the… bones. Because he’s a nakrus and he knows a lot about that stuff. And he taught me because of my hand. He saved it for me, years ago, but not quite. And when he chased me away, he made me a magara so people couldn’t see the bones.”

There was a silence, this time a long one, so long that I thought to myself, this is it, my master warned me, the sajits do not like necromancers, and then wham, you go and tell your new master everything! I almost heard the nakrus say to me: if only you would think before you act, Mor-eldal, if only you would stop experimenting! But what was done was done.

I broke the silence with a hesitant voice.

“Elassar? Elassar, you’re not mad, are you? Necromancy isn’t a bad thing. It’s just about… bones. Morjas is like jaypu. There’s no need to be afraid of them. My master says that sajits are stupid to be afraid of it, because it’s everywhere. He also says that people think we are monsters, but I am not, and neither is my master. Please, you must believe me,” I begged him.

“Spirits and demons,” Yal breathed out slowly. “Of course I believe you. And I’m not mad, why would I be? No, I was just thinking. The more I learn about you, the more surprised I am. A nakrus lost in the mountains with a necromancer kid and three books. You could almost write a terror tale about it, you know? Reassure me, is there… anything else important you forgot to tell me about your life?”

He had cast a light spell again, probably to get a better look at my face, but the thing was, I saw his too, and his half-alarmed, half-fascinated expression confused me. I bit my lip.

“Well… not that I know of.”

“You sure? Come on, Mor-eldal, tell me everything. If you turn into a demon on full Gem nights, just tell me, don’t worry, while we’re at it…” he cleared his throat.

I shook my head and looked at him questioningly.

“So… you’re not chasing me away because I’m a bit undead?”

“Of course not,” Yal snorted to my relief. “Look. As long as you promise me that you won’t reanimate any skeletons or anything like that, I’ll be fine. But… don’t tell anyone else about this. Not Yerris, not Rolg, anyone. You shouldn’t have even told me. Well, actually, it’s good that you told me, but… merciful spirits…” He ran a worried hand through his hair. “Tell me… Since yesterday, there’s been quite a scandal in the Cats because they found some evil signs on a bunch of street corners. Very old signs that, according to what the local priest says, come from the world of the Dead. One guy said he saw a little black imp. Uh… Tell me, was it you by any chance?”

I blinked, bewildered. Evil signs? I huffed.

“These are good signs, not evil signs. I use them to mark my way.”

Yalet rubbed his eyes then suddenly burst out laughing.

“Do you know that you kept a whole troop of parishioners busy for hours removing those signs? Mor-eldal,” he pronounced abruptly, and I looked at him carefully. “What does Mor-eldal mean?”

“Survivor,” I replied.

“In Morelic,” Yal muttered. “The language of the dead, isn’t it? You know how to speak Morelic.”

I did not deny it. I remembered that my master had once explained to me that centuries before, a great sect of fanatical warriors had used Caeldric as a secret language, and it had come to be regarded as an evil language in the whole region of Prospaterra. My master was already a nakrus at the time, and he had heard the news from one of his “old friends” who came to visit him from afar. That was why he had advised me not to speak in Caeldric, but how could I have imagined that I should also avoid using those signs? Yalet sighed, clasped his hands together, and leaned toward me; his face was grave.

“Listen, sari. Now, I don’t think anyone recognizes you or associates you with that little black imp, but I don’t want you to… uh… to start marking your way with those signs again, you hear me? Don’t speak Morelic and don’t do… anything that master taught you. Maybe you don’t realize it, but necromancy is dark magic, bad magic. Or at least, that’s how the celmists at the Conservatory define it. To them, it’s a hundred thousand times worse than harmonies. Nakrus are horrible creatures to them. And… I have to say that it would give me the creeps to meet one. Especially since such creatures don’t normally save children. If they could eat them, they would, you know what I mean… Anyway. This is serious, Mor-eldal. Very serious. If you let something like this slip out with another person, you might not end up in prison but at the stake. Do you know what the stake is?”

I shrugged.

“A fire that burns. Something bad.”

“Mmph. Yes. Something bad, sari. That fire would send you to the after-quarter. And not to Tarmil or Riskel: to the quarter of the dead, you understand me?”

“My master had already warned me,” I assured, and I tightened my arms around my knees, shivering. “I just… I just thought that… since you were Elassar, too…”

Yalet nodded several times, thoughtfully, then reached out and took my arm affectionately.

“I know that, Mor-eldal. And it moved me to hear it from you. But… you’ve only known me for two days. You don’t really know what I’m like. It turns out you got lucky. But that doesn’t happen all the time. Not all sajits are able to assimilate… that. Some would betray you thinking they are doing something right. Some would reveal your deepest secrets. Learn to be wary, or else…” I saw him swallow. “Or else you will end up very badly. Do you understand?”

I nodded, shocked. Of course I understood, I wasn’t stupid. But at least now I was certain that I shouldn’t talk. And that there was someone in this foreign city who knew my secrets and would not divulge them. Someone I could fully trust as I could with my master. And that… that was very comforting.