13 Breakdown in the Ravines

The street was deserted. I entered the dead end and knocked on the door. I waited. After a few moments, I heard the latch being removed, and the door opened.

“Come in.”

It was Korther’s voice. I did not take time to interpret its tone: I entered and stood for a moment in awe. There were four people in the room. Korther was sitting in his chair by the fireplace; Aberyl was leaning against a wall, his blue muffler pulled up to hide his face; Yerris was sitting at the table; and Rolg was standing by the door. I looked at the old elf with bewildered eyes as he closed the latch. I didn’t expect to see him there, and so… different. Like, he looked healthier. Finally, I blurted out in disbelief:

“Rolg! I didn’t know you were back.”

The demon elf smiled, but Korther didn’t let him answer.

“Indeed,” the elfocan said briskly, “who would have thought that he would return before you. Come here, lad.”

I gave them all another look as I approached the Black Dagger kap. I stopped by the chair, and under Korther’s watchful reptilian eyes, said quietly:

“Ayo.”

“Hmm,” Korther muttered. “Took you a while to find your way back to the Hostel. I bet it was Yal who jogged your memory.” I thought it prudent not to answer. “Hold your hand out,” he added.

I held out my right hand, and he placed the purple stone in my palm. Immediately, I felt the energy of the magara.

“As soon as you hear something, you translate out loud. Sit there.”

The kap’s voice, though not gruff, was authoritative. I nodded quickly and backed away to the table, focusing my attention on the stone. I heard a faint, indefinable hissing sound through it, and then there was silence. I sat up, glanced at Yerris, and frowned in surprise. The half-gnome held his head in both hands, and his eyes seemed to be lost.

“Yerris?” I whispered.

I reached out my hand, and as soon as I touched the Black Cat’s arm, he jumped abruptly without turning his head and breathed out:

“Shyur… H-how are you?”

I arched an eyebrow in concern.

“Uh… I’m fine now that I’m free. How about you? You look strange. You know I ran into your master at Carnation? He asked me to tell Korther that you weren’t guilty. But I don’t know what he was talking about.”

I saw Korther slightly start, and I turned to him. His annoyed expression left me even more troubled. I looked at them all with concern.

“What’s going on?”

“Did Al really say I wasn’t guilty?” Yerris gasped.

I swallowed and nodded, but I had the feeling that Yerris did not see my nod.

“Yes. That’s what he said. Right before he escaped. What’s going on?” I repeated.

There was a silence. Aberyl was in a pensive pose, Korther had resumed reading a book he had on his lap, and to my disappointment, Rolg had walked out of the room, to do who knows what. Still not looking at me, Yerris sighed.

“If only you knew. Last week, the alchemist thought he’d found a cure. I tested it. And it pretty much worked. I still need sokwata, but my body makes it on its own, from what Mr. Wayam said. However… not everything went well.”

As I was absorbing the meaning of his words with amazement, I suddenly heard through the stone:

“I think we’ve gone far enough.”

It was Shokinori. However, I didn’t say anything, I pretended not to have heard, and I didn’t even look down at the purple stone. Stunned, I stared at Yerris, then passed my left hand in front of his eyes, and let out a hiccup.

“Good mother… you can’t see me?”

Yerris winced and shook his head.

“Neither you nor anyone else: it’s as if I had a constant red veil before my eyes. If at least I hadn’t lost my harmonica on the journey, I could do something else than sit around thinking…” He shook his head again, looking as if he were laughing at himself, and after a slight hesitation he added, “But that’s not the worst of it. The worst part is that sometimes… I lose track and can’t even think. The alchemist says he’ll help me and find another cure… He promised me he will. So don’t worry. Everything will work out,” he said with a smile that didn’t seem very confident to me. He paused. “So… did you really meet Al at Carnation? How did it go for you there, shyur?”

I shrugged, remembered that he couldn’t see me, and replied:

“So-so.” I shook my head and croaked, altered, “Geez, is that alchemist messing with us or what? He mutates us, he blinds us, he only does bad things to us… Hell, he’ll end up killing us, I swear.”

“Hey, hey, relax, shyur,” Yerris replied. He fumbled and grabbed my hand. He squeezed it hard. “Don’t worry. I was the one who volunteered. And I’ll volunteer for the next times. When Mr. Wayam finds the right cure, we’ll give it to you all. And we won’t talk about the sokwata or this whole nightmare ever again… Believe me.”

I looked at him, speechless. I didn’t know what to say to him. Thanks for sacrificing yourself? Are you completely insane? I also wanted to ask him if he really believed that the alchemist would find something in the next twenty years. Finally, I whispered:

“I believe you.”

The Priest used to say that faith moved mountains…well, I hoped it would activate the alchemist’s brain as well. I cleared my throat, and after a silence, I said:

“Shokinori and Yabir are on their way out of Estergat.”

It was like a detonator. Korther leapt to his feet, abandoning his book, and asked:

“Where?”

Under his impatient gaze, I hastened to say all that I had heard and could make out while Yerris spoke to me:

“They’re going along a forest. They say they’re going to do some calculations to locate the stone.”

Korther exchanged a glance with Aberyl and muttered:

“The Crypt.”

It was the only forest in the vicinity. Korther grabbed his cloak and said in an energetic tone:

“Draen: you will come with me. Ab, follow us from a distance. Rolg, stay with Yerris.” The old elf had returned to the room and nodded calmly. I saw Korther hastily check his pockets then his daggers, one hidden in one boot, one in his sleeve; finally, he added, “Let’s go.”

I didn’t ask any questions, I didn’t even stop to think, in fact: everything was happening too fast. I murmured, “Ayo, Black Cat…” And the kap, Aberyl, and I went out into the night.

Aberyl quickly fell behind as we made our way through the dark alleys. We walked down along the Timid River to the Hippodrome and to the Estergat River. The Gem and the Moon in the sky were not full, but they still lit our way sufficiently. We crossed the Black Bridge behind a band of rather drunken youths, and as soon as we got away from the factories, we turned right, directly towards the Crypt. We still had a good hour to reach the edge. As we passed vegetable gardens and wasteland, Korther asked me:

“What are they saying?”

This was the third time he had asked me this question. I sighed and replied:

“Well… I don’t know, I can’t hear them very well. They’re talking about I don’t know what triangle. Shokinori accuses Yabir of being a klutz. And Yabir admits that he’s not very skilled but asks Shokinori to respect him a bit; he says that he’s not just anyone, and that, besides, the bond is weakening, that he’s not a hero. He also says that, if they’d learned the language of the Surface better, it’d have spared them a lot of trouble. And—”

“Any clue as to their whereabouts?” Korther interrupted.

I cleared my throat and confessed:

“No. I only heard them talking about the trees.”

“Trees,” the kap repeated, slowing slightly. “Did they only say ‘trees’? Because, you know, trees are all over the place, lad: not all trees grow in a forest.”

“I’m pretty sure of it,” I assured. “At one point I heard an owl. Well, I think it was an owl,” I qualified.

In the darkness, I could see Korther’s penetrating gaze.

“If we don’t find those Undergrounders tonight, lad, I’m going to be very disappointed with you. So pay close attention to the stone and quicken your pace.”

I was doing what I could, but I had been running all afternoon and my legs were feeling the strain. We were crossing the White Road that bordered the eastern part of the forest when I heard a word and said with a touch of excitement:

“Shokinori said something about a hill. They must be climbing the Ravines!”

Korther glanced at the path, then at the dark trail that climbed up along the edge next to the Ravines. He gestured and called in a low voice:

“Ab. Follow us through the forest.”

As soon as we were out of sight from any sajits, the hooded Black Dagger had followed us more closely. I saw him move forward and nod.

“Be careful, Kor,” he said. “These Underground people have a different culture. They are said to draw the sword to say good morning.”

“Then I’ll pull out my daggers to give their greeting back,” Korther replied mockingly. “Let’s not waste time.”

We resumed walking, following the path upwards; after a silence, I inquired curiously:

“What are we going to do when we give them the stone back?”

Korther slowed down slightly.

“Mm. For that, I’d have to find myself willing to give it back to them, lad. First the introductions, then the negotiations, and then the agreement. If all goes well,” he observed. “And now: silence.”

I bit my lip but still dared to say:

“This afternoon, I saw the Wada at the Stock Exchange. Isn’t that unbelievable?”

I heard Korther’s soft gasp.

“No, lad. It’s perfectly normal. Sometimes, a Black Dagger has to know how to steal temporarily. And now, seriously: one more word and I’ll abandon you in the middle of the forest, gagged and hands bound, is that clear?”

I nodded, not daring to open my mouth. It runs, it runs, I thought with a sigh. In any case, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the thought of having stolen perhaps Estergat’s most valuable item and then returned it as if nothing had happened.

The path narrowed, and the kap led the way. So Korther intended to return the relic to the Undergrounders in exchange for something. Money? Information? I didn’t care as long as he didn’t keep me here all night to act as his interpreter.

We had been climbing the Ravines for a short while when I felt a sudden energy vibration, took a deep breath in surprise, and the purple stone slipped out of my grasp. I stifled a curse, and as Korther was walking a few steps ahead, I hurriedly bent down to retrieve the stone before he turned his head and noticed anything. With my sokwata eyes, I found it, dangerously close to the fall of the ravine, touched it, and… let out a strangled cry as I received a sharp shock. I threw myself to the ground, shaking with nervous spasms.

Fortunately, Korther came back quickly and prevented me from throwing myself into the ravine. But the stone… Good Mother, where was the stone…? Korther shook me.

“Hey, boy! Are you alright? What happened?” he inquired in a worried voice.

I did not answer immediately. When I had calmed down, he helped me to my feet. However, anticipating a coming outburst, I hurriedly retreated to the forest and grabbed onto a trunk, saying:

“Don’t beat me! I didn’t do it on purpose! It slipped out of my hands!”

Then Korther understood the catastrophe. And to his credit, he did not shout at me. He looked at the ravine and said:

“Go search for it.”

When I did not immediately obey, he forcibly separated me from the trunk, snorting and insisting:

“At once. It can’t have fallen very far with all those rocks.”

I approached, apprehensive. The ravine was steep, but it was not as vertical as I thought, nor as deep as other places closer to the mines. I began to descend and cast perceptive spells left and right, using up most of my energy stem. I reached the bottom and searched between the bushes, opening my eyes wide, as if I could gain a sixth sense that would help me find the purple stone. I had just grabbed onto a root to climb back up the ravine when I suddenly saw something shoot a spark of energy just inches from my hand. The stone. I breathed a sigh of relief, picked it up, and, feeling an intense energy flow through my body, I hurriedly put the relic in my pocket.

“You crazy rock,” I muttered. And it really seemed that the stone had gone mad: even when stuffed in my pocket, it was shooting electric shocks at me.

Then I heard a voice whistling in Caeldric:

“Dakis, catch!”

For a moment, I stood still, and that for several reasons. First, because the voice I had heard was undoubtedly Shokinori’s. Second, because I had just heard a deep growl. And third, because I knew that the growl could only have come from a wolf or a dog or… something big, anyway. When I saw the great quadrupedal form rushing at me, panic came over me. I dropped the root and ran in the opposite direction from where Shokinori’s voice had come from. I didn’t have much hope. Down there were tall bushes, but no trees, so I could hardly climb anything. And I knew well that dogs had as good a nose as lynxes. So when I felt a tremendous force throw me to the ground at once, I was not surprised. Nor was I frightened. My fear was already beyond that of death. I rolled to the ground and soon found myself on my back with the beast upon me. Its snarls made me relive the attack of the seven dogs of Adoya, and not wishing to experience my own death, I escaped to the valley.

I was lying next to my master, gazing at the stars. The sky was so starry that it looked like a stream of pearls.

“Is it not a wonderful sight, Mor-eldal?” my master asked serenely. “Ah, a shooting star! Did you see it?”

Disappointment washed over me, and I confessed:

“I didn’t.”

All I could see were two big black eyes and stars in the shape of fangs.

“You have to pay attention,” my master said with a smile.

He was not really smiling: it was his sparkling green eyes that were smiling. They turned to me for a moment and then resumed their stargazing.

“It’s very important to know where you’re looking,” he continued. “Because they are so fleeting that they appear and disappear faster than squirrels.”

At that moment, I saw a light rip through the starry sky and I smiled as I raised my index finger.

“There, I saw one, Elassar! It was a shooting star.”

Suddenly I felt the earth begin to shake violently, and I cowered… A branch fell on me and prevented me from moving. I struggled, but the branch was too heavy. I shouted:

“Elassaaaar!”

This time, something fell into my mouth and silenced me. It seemed to me as if a shooting star had lodged there and silenced me on purpose; as my master used to say, the stars were the ladies of silence. Then I wondered what the blasthell was happening to me, just as I heard Yabir’s voice say:

“He speaks our language, Shok. What do we do?”

There was silence, and for a flash, I saw two hooded figures through the branch and the stars of the valley, one kneeling beside me, the other holding the huge wolf by the neck. One part of my mind was telling me to get up and run away. The other, more reasonable, told me that it was useless to try to escape from such a beast. And another, the one that prevailed, was busy creating harmonic illusions to see, feel, or hear only the valley wind, the nocturnal owl, and the soothing voice of my master. But, in spite of myself, I kept hearing the grunts.

“We have the stone,” Shokinori said. “To take the boy with us would be madness. Come on, Yabir: up the ravine there are people. They were probably coming with the boy, and they must have heard him screaming. Let’s get out of here before things get complicated.”

“I can’t help but think that he would be a great help to us, Shokinori,” Yabir protested. “Besides, it’s no accident that this boy speaks our language. Can’t you see it? For a thousand manticores! The people who found the relic must have figured out how it activated and listened through it using the boy… Why are you looking at me like that? It’s not that implausible. Think about it. Why else would they be walking around here? Because they were looking for us!”

His words were lost, muffled by those of my nakrus master, who was now telling me of the number of bones which rabbits had. Suddenly, I felt myself begin to fly, and I saw a yarack with multicolored feathers pass over me and say:

“Let’s go!”

I flew close to him and felt myself being carried away by a confused whirlwind intermingled with the dog’s guttural breathing.

“Dakis says they’re coming after us, Yabir,” Shokinori hissed. “That boy is in shock or something, but he’s not going to cooperate, and I remind you that neither of us are giants… Let’s just leave him and get the hell out of here. Don’t be an idiot.”

My flight stopped abruptly, and I heard a grunt.

“Idiot, idiot… It didn’t seem such an idiotic idea to me, though.”

“Run.”

The footsteps faded away, as did the dog’s presence, and I curled up, trying to figure out why… why I was having these harmonic fits that I couldn’t control. It was all because of Adoya’s dogs. I managed to more or less undo the harmonies that populated the area right in front of my eyes, and when I heard more footsteps approaching at a run, I rolled onto the ground and hid under a bush. It was Aberyl and Korther for sure. But, blasthell, I didn’t want them to see me. Not after Shokinori and Yabir had stolen the purple orb from me and disappeared, devils knew where.

I saw a harmonic light illuminating the place where I had been a moment earlier and heard Korther say:

“They’ve been here. Damn it. Ab, try to track them down.”

The other Black Dagger moved away, but the light remained. Through the bushy thicket, I saw Korther bend over, and I saw his hand follow a line…

“I’ll wring your neck, lad,” he muttered. “Come out.”

I froze. After a few seconds of deep silence, I realized that I had no other option than to answer him, and I protested:

“It’s not my fault. They had a very large dog—”

“Come out!” Korther ordered.

And he did so in such a dry voice that it gave me goose bumps, and I thought that he really meant to wring my neck. I tried to go round the bush as quietly as possible, and got up, and ran away. But Korther must have foreseen my trick because he was prepared. He reacted quickly and grabbed me by the wrist. And I did what probably no good sari should ever have done, I kicked him in the shin and shouted:

“Let go of me!”

I received a slap that left my cheek on fire, followed by a hold that left me in the same position as before with the wolf. Except that this time it was the Black Daggers’ kap that was holding me down. And he was furious. Noticing that I wasn’t really struggling anymore and that I was just covering my face with an arm to prevent any hypothetical blow, Korther hissed:

“First you throw the relic into the ravine, then you let the Undergrounders steal from you, and then you hide, and to make matters worse, you try to run away and kick me? We’re off to a bad start!”

He forced my arm away so I could look him in the eye and said:

“I’m not used to losing my temper. But you’re really going to make me lose it, little rascal. And I wouldn’t advise you to be near me that day. That relic meant a lot to me: it meant that I would finally be able to speak directly with these Undergrounders. Whether we lose their trail or not, you’re going to have to pay for this, lad, and very dearly. And, by the way, the next time a Black Dagger tells you I want to see you, don’t be late. If you want to be a Black Dagger for good and not get into trouble in Estergat, lad, you’re going to have to learn not to act rashly.”

The kap’s words hurt as much as they frightened me. In the end, maybe my nakrus master was right whenever he told me, ‘If only you’d think before you act, Mor-eldal’. Then Korther added in an imperative tone:

“Don’t move from here.”

I let out a gasp as he released me, and whispered:

“I’m sorry.”

But Korther was already leaving, and he did not answer. Perhaps he didn’t even hear me. When I saw him disappear between the dense bushes, I swallowed and stood up. After a long silence, I muttered:

“Thunders, storms, and blasthell. Blasthell. And… blasthell,” I repeated.

I pulled my sleeve over my eyes, massaged my sore cheek, and gritted my teeth. Sometimes, I wished Rolg hadn’t noticed me that spring day in the Grey Square. I began to walk with determination. No more Black Daggers, I thought. It’s all over. Did I ask Korther to give me a job? No. He had wanted to use me because I spoke Caeldric, and without me, he wouldn’t have been able to locate Shokinori and Yabir. Was it my fault that I couldn’t run as fast as a wolf?

“To hell with it,” I grumbled.

Thinking again of the wolf, and assuming that if Korther and Aberyl found Shokinori and Yabir, they would come for me to interpret for them, I quickened my pace and moved almost at a run between the darkened shrubs. I left the shrubbery behind me, went down the hill, through an area full of coal mounds and carts, and came to the Canals.

By the time I reached the Cat Quarter, I had fully recovered from my misadventure. Or almost. I looked for the shelter Rogan had told me about. Even though I had wandered the Labyrinth many times before, each time I entered it I passed through alleys I had never used before, climbed stairs and ladders, walked through unfamiliar passages, and almost instinctively avoided others where shadows and awake figures could be seen.

At last, I came to what the Priest had introduced to me as the Staircase: a wooden stairway that led up to some place near the Wool Square, and which housed a good dozen gwaks. The gap between the wall and the stairs was not very wide, but wide enough to pass through. I slipped underneath and, unable to see in such darkness, nearly stepped on something alive. There was no reaction to my arrival from the gwaks, they were all fast asleep. I managed to find a corner near what I deduced must be the Priest, for I bumped into a top-hat-like object. After thinking of waking my cronies and Rogan to take them to Yal’s house, I remembered that Yal did not want to be woken in the middle of the night, and besides, Korther must surely know where he lived, and so he would come for me and give me another speech about how I was doing it all wrong, and… bah. I breathed out a long breath, and then I heard a whisper.

“Sharpy? Is that you?”

It was Rogan. I grabbed his hat, put it on my face, and whispered:

“You owe me a fivenail, Priest. The Estergat Swallow, no less.”

Rogan took the hat from me and snorted.

“Miscreant. Don’t you know that you musn’t take money from priests but give it to them instead?”

He gave me a gentle pat, and I smiled.

“Then lend me the hat.”

“Shut up, you guys,” an unfamiliar, half-asleep voice groaned.

I bit my lip and heard Rogan’s mocking whisper:

“You don’t lend to a friend. Besides, if you’re going to be a Swallow, you’re going to have a professional hat, right?”

I pouted. He was right. I rolled my eyes and whispered:

“Very round, very round. Tomorrow, when it gets light, shake me if I don’t wake up, eh? Don’t wanna be late for work.”

“I’ll drag you to the underworld if I have to, Sharpy,” Rogan promised.

I smiled.

“Thank you. Sleep well, Priest.”

“Good night, O my disciple,” the Priest replied with affectionate mockery.

I closed my eyes and thought that it was a good thing I had Rogan and my cronies, because, without them, I would have been very lonely that night.