Wolf Tide Read online

  CHAPTER 4

  Loxi picked up the contract and whistled. ‘Woo. Minstery work? Doing all right for yourself, little cousin.’

  ‘Yeah—finally I’m doing so well that Carraman sends his Fairy to bust into my house and see what I’m up to.’ She was trembling. How had they found out so fast? She’d told nobody. Someone must be running their gob up on the Mount. Who? And what else did they know—that Thwyn had vanished? That she was basically stuffed?

  ‘What’s going on, Nan?’ asked Loxi. ‘You in trouble? The Gullmothers say you’re bankrupt.’

  ‘I’m bloody not!’ God, this was a nightmare. What if a rumour of her insolvency reached the scholasticus as well?

  ‘Linna says to tell you you’ve got to hire me on, eh, so I can do the books.’

  ‘Yeah, well Linna left.’ She replaced the contract and slammed the safe. ‘So Linna doesn’t get a vote any more, does she?’ There was a pause. That had come out more bitter than she’d intended.

  ‘Hey, don’t be like that, you.’ He rubbed her arm. ‘She loves Matteo, you know that. She had to leave. Girls all get married in the end, eh.’

  ‘Huh. Not this girl.’ With a murmur re-activated the charm. ‘And how come the matchmakers aren’t on your case?’

  He grinned. ‘They are. I’m running away. Come on, you. Tell me what’s happening. I can see you’re worried.’

  Should she tell him? Or was that weak? Like she was still was looking round for a man to sort it all out for her?

  ‘C’mon,’ he said. ‘Give me a job, I’ll do it. Anything you ask.’

  ‘You don’t know what I’m going to ask yet.’

  ‘It sure as shit won’t be the worst I’ve had to do.’

  Suddenly, there he was—the little boy, trembling inside the man. Something cold clutched at her. ‘What happened to you on the boats, Loxi?’

  But the glimpse was gone. ‘It was fine. Just boring. Want to work in the city, me. Aw, give us a job, Nan.’ He was starting to wheedle now. Work the eyelashes. Tug her sleeve.

  ‘Stop that!’ But the boy had always been impossible to say no to.

  ‘Aw, please? G’wan. I’ll do your filing.’ He nodded at the cupboard under the stairs. ‘Sort that crap out. Got a good head for figures, me. Linna says—’

  ‘God!’ she snapped. ‘All right. Month’s trial period. And I’m the boss.’

  Sudden glimmer of hope: she’d take him up to the library tomorrow and say he was her assistant. Fob the scholasticus off for a bit longer while she tried to track down a charm-worker.

  Loxi had gone off to his hostel. Anabara lay in her bunk unable to sleep. The moon was setting. She watched it slide across her porthole window, and thought again about that pale pointed face, heard the scratch of nails down her tiles. Maybe this ship-house did freak her out. Sometimes as she drifted asleep the wooden walls of her room seemed to creak and roll on a remembered sea and she’d jerk awake thinking she’d heard the screams of drowning sailors. What if this ship had once carried a cargo of Fairies in her hold? Stowed among the grain sacks, in iron cages no bigger than barrels. Like the slave Loxi had stumbled across.

  ‘My folks sent me away to make a man of me,’ he’d burst out. ‘And look! I come home a bigger sissy than ever. Nan, I see his eyes in the dark, watching. I know he’s coming for me.’

  ‘Loxi, even if he escapes, there’s no way he’s coming back looking for some insignificant Gull deckhand. And he won’t escape. The irons will see to that. Hey. It’s over Loxi. You’re a good person.’

  ‘Aw shit. See? Still a crybaby.’ His smudged the tears away. ‘I love you, Nan. You were always kind to me.’

  She hooted. ‘I used to tie you up and play human sacrifices with you!’

  ‘Yeah, but at least you let me play.’

  The games we played. God, I was a monster. If he loves me, he must have forgotten. It was clear to her, suddenly, just how tough his childhood must have been. No place for sensitive boy in a world of otter hunting and bare knuckle boxing. Well, she’d be kind to him this time round. He had vowed he’d do anything, but after witnessing him in that state she hadn’t mentioned what she was planning. No, if she was going off a-hunting for Fairies, she was going to do it by herself. He’d helped enough without realising: she knew now when and where the next slave auction would be held.

  And in any case, there were some things a girl could do better on her own. Better than any man. I can do this, she told herself. I can, I can.

  Silence.

  Tick, tick, said the clock on the study mantelpiece. Ten past two.

  The scholasticus rubbed his bony hands together. His gaze skimmed Loxi, then fled back to his book shelves. ‘I daresay Ms Nolio has outlined our situation here?’ he remarked to a volume of Early Candacian Love Songs.

  For God’s sake. It was like she’d brought a well-behaved warhorse into the Precincts and announced it would be assisting in her investigation.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Loxi.

  ‘Splendid.’ The scholasticus plucked a parchment from his desk. ‘Now, I have here a list of alumni still living in Larridy who might have honoured themselves with borrowing rights. I wondered if, perhaps, Mr Laitolo might…? Unless…?’

  Trying to decide: was it racist to ask if the savage could read? Anabara took the parchment and handed it to Loxi. ‘Off you go. Ask them if they’ve got any overdue library books.’

  The scholasticus wrung his hands and twitched.

  ‘Don’t worry, he can read,’ Anabara reassured him once Loxi had gone. ‘And he doesn’t normally bite people’s ears off unless they insult his ancestors, ha ha!’ There was a pause. Anabara made a note not to attempt humour with the scholasticus again.

  ‘Am I correct in assuming you are sub-contracting this work to Mr Laitolo?’ he asked. ‘That is to say, you are not expecting the library to, ah…?’

  ‘His wages will be paid by my company, yes.’ God, what a flea-skinner. ‘By the way, I’m still sorting some visa issues regarding my new Fairy associate. Bureaucratic cock-up. You know what Border Control are like.’

  He inclined his head.

  Crap. He doesn’t believe me. ‘Right. Um, I’ll just get up on to the library roof, then, and er, do a preliminary check on external security.’

  She’d been up here often as a child. Many an illegal hooley match round the hallowed chimney pots with assorted hardscrabble Gull cousins. And then there was that scorching summer day when the lead burned her bare feet and she and Linna had tied Loxi to the lightning conductor as storm clouds boiled up on the horizon…

  She went round the huge cupola from mullion to mullion. The windows housed squadrons of saints and angels who—theoretically—guarded the library below. Fierce eyes swiveled to watch her progress along the parapet. Did they recognise her, the evil minx who tortured weeping little boys? They had been designed as free-walking figures, able to leave their frames and fight to defend the library. But after centuries of neglect they had seized up.

  Anabara’s conscience suddenly attacked her. What was she playing at, pretending she knew about restoration work? Even if Thwyn hadn’t skedaddled, he’d never have had the technical knowledge to write a proper report.

  She gazed out in despair. From up here you could just see the sea, a bright band on the western horizon. Somewhere over there towards the Larrus delta was where she’d be heading tomorrow night, relying on her childhood river craft. Looking for the slave auction. Her heart gave a lurch. She was mad even to think of it! Even if by some miracle she found the auction and sweet-talked the Tressy dealers into selling her a slave, where would that get her? Heritage work like this required a team of skilled Fairy artisans. Instead, she’d be down several hundred gilders, and saddled with some lummox too thick to charm the lid on a biscuit barrel.

  Except… Except… This was her last chance to rescue her business. And maybe there was something deeper going on as well. She took a deep breath. I’m going to try, she decided. It’s what my parents wou
ld have done. For once I’ll be doing something worthy of them, not just standing by while Border Control forcibly repatriates desperate refugees. I know I can’t bring down the whole evil system of slaving, but I can make a difference to one life. I can free one slave. Or die trying—was she brave enough for that?

  Anabara got to her feet before her resolve could waver. She glided down from one roof level to the next, until she was above a small courtyard.

  Hah, look at that—the Zaarzuk, pacing with his head in a book! Ancient Galen grammar, she was betting. The pale spiral of scalp showed in the blond stubble. He was in novice robes now. Barefoot.

  She sprang down, startling him. ‘Good day, mister. Still sulking?’

  He drew himself up. ‘A Zaarzuk does not sulk! He broods, dark and dangerous. While he whets his scimitar and plans revenge!’

  ‘So it’s true—you really are a Zaarzuk?’

  ‘Truly, I am a Zaarzuk. Ah! She smiles at last. This pleases you?’ He grinned and tucked the grammar into his rope girdle. ‘You think naughty-naughty things?’

  ‘I do not!’ She tried, but he was impossible to scowl at. ‘It’s just your reputation, that’s all.’

  ‘The filthy Zaarzuks, yes?’ His big laugh rang out. ‘Come, tell me what people say.’

  That you kiss with your tongues. That you pierce your parts with gold rings to enhance a girl’s pleasure. ‘Oh, that you’re liars and thieves and braggarts, that you sleep on the stable floor with your horses. That you treat your dogs better than your women.’

  ‘Not so! These are lies.’

  ‘And when I was a little girl the Gullmothers told us if we got out of bed after lights out, the horsemen would get us.’

  ‘Ah yes. We do this,’ he agreed. ‘If we catch bad girls in the dark, it is our duty to take them back to bed.’

  ‘Na, ah.’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘My cousin Linna and I were forever trying it. You never came.’

  ‘We were remiss!’ He smote his chest. ‘What can I say? Try it tonight and I will be there.’

  ‘You,’ she stabbed a finger at him, ‘are supposed to be celibate, mister.’

  He caught her hand. ‘But what of my honour? I, Tadzar Dal Ramek, would die a thousand deaths sooner than shirk my Zaarzuk duty! Truly.’ His other hand slid round her waist, gathered her close. He put his lips to her ear and murmured, ‘Three years! This is too long to keep my poor stallion penned in his stable.’

  Anabara just had time for a jolt of shock, when a silent figure appeared.

  The Zaarzuk sprang back. His book tumbled to the floor. ‘Master!’ He bowed and retrieved his grammar. ‘I was explaining Ms Nolio some aspects of the Zaarzuk culture.’

  The Master of Novices regarded him steadily, till the Zaarzuk lowered his gaze.

  ‘The Patriarch wishes to see you,’ said the Master. ‘Not you, brother. The Patriarch wishes to see his niece.’

  At this, the Zaarzuk’s eyes widened. He let fly some guttural exclamation.

  Crack! went the Master’s staff on the flagstones. ‘Dal Ramek, this is a holy place. Seek pardon for sullying it.’

  The Zaarzuk dropped and did obeisance, palms and forehead on the stone, arse in the air. And there he would have to remain—a tempting target for any passing student boot—till the Master saw fit to release him, or the next service bell rang.

  ‘Come, Ms Nolio. I will accompany you.’ He led her out of the courtyard.

  She glanced back at the Zaarzuk. ‘You can’t just leave him there!’

  He raised a Galen eyebrow. ‘Ms Nolio, do I tell you how to run your business?’

  ‘Only all the time!’

  When they’d safely rounded the corner he grinned and broke into Gull: ‘Well, that’s what big brothers are for, eh.’

  ‘Yanni, Yanni!’ She flung herself into his arms. Nobody could hug like Yannick. ‘So go on—who is he? Why’s he a novice, not an ordinary student?’

  ‘You know I can’t discuss him with you.’ Yanni hesitated. ‘But as your big brother, I’d warn you to be careful. If I didn’t know you’d immediately treat it as a challenge, that is,’ he added with another smile.

  ‘Fine. I’ll be careful. Anyway, it was nothing.’ Stop blushing.

  He hesitated again. ‘Ana, look, my task is to turn scholars into warriors, and warriors into scholars. Not all my charge find their path equally smooth, that’s all.’

  ‘And he’s going to find it tough, you mean?’

  But he wouldn’t answer. Just hugged her tight again. They walked arm-in-arm down the stone walkway towards the Patriarch’s quarters in the old palace.

  CHAPTER 5

  ‘Uncle Téador!’ She smiled up into his beloved face. The Patriarch was a typical lean dark-skinned Galen, like the scholasticus. ‘How was the trip?’

  ‘Productive, I think.’ He bent to kiss her forehead. ‘Let’s sit, and I will show you my new treasure.’

  This was their ritual each time he returned from a long state visit. One day she’d grow out of it. Maybe when she was ninety. His apartment was a cavernous museum of a place. Against the walls stood cabinets full of curious gifts from around the globe—treasures from earlier journeys. They sat on the fur hearth rug. A hundred miniature silver bears had died for this particular Palatine whim. Drowned in barrels so their precious pelts weren’t damaged.

  ‘Hey, guess what?’ she said. ‘I landed the library security contract.’ He nodded. Yes, of course the Patriarch knew that. He knew everything. She teetered on the brink of blurting out her woes. But he had enough to worry about, fundamentalists on one hand, atheists on the other. Instead she said: ‘Just to alert you, the new scholasticus is considering an overdue library book amnesty.’

  The Patriarch sat very still. He did not permit his eyes to swivel to his shelves.

  ‘Now’s your chance to sneak them all back, uncle,’ she whispered.

  ‘How well you know me!’ He laughed and clapped his hands. ‘And now, the treasure. You’ll like this.’ From the pocket of his robes he drew what looked like a small slab of dark glass. ‘The latest toy from Galencia University.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘A writing tablet.’ He slid a small white-steel pen from a slot in the side. ‘If you write a message, then your words will appear on another tablet, many miles away.’

  ‘You’re kidding!’

  ‘Not at all. One day everyone will have one of these, apparently. They are already very popular. The prototypes keep going astray, much to the frustration of the scholars. Who knows what secret networks already exist? Watch.’

  He traced the pen across the glass. Letters appeared as if below the surface. From Téador Yannick IX, to Professor Eldondor, greetings. They slowly faded. And then—impossible!—a reply wrote itself: Greetings, my Lord Patriarch. I trust your journey home was pleasant?

  ‘What? No way!’ Her flesh crawled. ‘Is it charmed? How does it work?’

  ‘Well now, that’s something for your cousin Rodania to answer. The scholars kindly explained to me—in layman’s language—that it exploits the principles of theoretical numerology that underlie Fairy psycho-mechanics, and hence the universe itself.’

  ‘Huh. Maths. Everything’s maths, isn’t it?’ Thinking: Rodania, everything’s Rodania. But that would grieve him.

  ‘Yes. Maths explains all. Though so far they haven’t said why it does. So I’m not out of a job yet. Let me compose a farewell, and then you may tell me your news.’ He wrote swiftly on the tablet, then put it away again in his pocket. ‘Now, how are you? You seem troubled, my dear, despite this good fortune with the library work.’

  ‘My stupid Fairy associate’s vanished, so I can’t fulfil the contract!’ She pressed her hand to her mouth. ‘Sorry. I’m still all churned up. The night before last Border Control came after a Fairy fugitive who was hiding in my back yard. I know they have a job to do, but it was all so… brutal.’ She felt herself wobbling on the edge of tears. ‘It was only a child, uncle.’

&n
bsp; He laid a hand on her arm, but said nothing. Just waited. He knew there was more. She drew a breath and blurted: ‘I’ve got to do something! Tomorrow night I’m going to punt down river to the delta island. To a slave auction. I’m going to buy a Fairy slave and free them to work for me.’

  There, she sounded exactly like her six year old self, boasting of dragon-slaying again! But his silence clothed the preposterous claim with truth: she really was going to attempt this.

  He took both her hands in his. ‘Dearest, dearest dear. I’m a selfish old man and I don’t want to lose you. This is a mad and reckless quest. But I sense you must attempt it. May the Lord of Light guide you.’

  ‘I’ll be careful, uncle.’ Please tell me not to go. Forbid it, make me promise.

  He kissed her forehead again. ‘I have something for you. It was your mother’s. I dreamt about it last night, so perhaps this is the time.’ He got to his feet.

  She watched as he crossed the room and opened a drawer in the magnificent Palatine desk. His lips moved, unlocking a charm. Something precious then. A flash of silver. He shut the drawer and came and sat again.

  ‘Here.’

  From the chain swung a single dark green gem the size of a walnut. Like a clot, ugly. Carved, or natural? She turned it this way and that, then suddenly, it was a curled up figure. ‘Woo! It kind of jumped into focus. What is it supposed to be? A Fairy?’

  ‘Yes. Very ancient, or that’s my feeling. What do you make of it?’

  She shook her head. ‘Is it a good thing?’

  ‘Hmm. It doesn’t feel evil. Powerful perhaps, but not evil. It’s yours to look after. See what you make of it. Or what it wants to do.’

  She shivered. ‘You think it has a will?’

  ‘Well, most ancient Fairy artifacts have something of the soul embedded in them, don’t they?’

  ‘Where did Mum get it?’

  ‘She was given it, that’s all I know.’