Blood Storm: The Second Book of Lharmell (5 page)

‘Cheppers py is cheppers py,’ he said gruffly. ‘Where you from?’

I wondered if I should say Prestoral, but he probably wouldn’t have heard of it. ‘Xallentaria.’

‘Oh,’ he said, as if that explained a lot. ‘Cheppers py is ground meat wiv taters on top.’

‘What sort of meat?’

He widened his eyes and snorted as if I were being particularly bothersome. ‘Goat. Sheep. Bit o’ cow, maybe. If you’re lucky.’ He laughed and I saw blackened teeth in his mouth.

I said I would try it. He disappeared for a moment and came back with some grey slop topped with some white slop. ‘Five coppers,’ he said, setting it on the counter.

I paid him and took the steaming monstrosity back to where Rodden sat. ‘Dare me to eat it?’ I asked.

He tasted a forkful. ‘That’s good shepherd’s pie,’ he said.

‘Shepherd’s pie? I couldn’t make out what the idiot was saying,’ I muttered.

Rodden lapsed into silence as I ate. When I finished I decided to try one last time to draw him out. I picked something safe, something that he might want to talk about. ‘Tell me about Verapine?’ I asked. When he’d talked of it that day in his turret room he’d seemed almost happy.

‘You’ll see it for yourself soon.’

‘I know. But tell me anyway.’

Leap was crouched under the table, no doubt hoping somebody would be clumsy with their dinner. Rodden pulled my cat onto his lap and stroked his silvery fur.

‘Well, there’re lots of these little buggers running around, in Pol at least. No one keeps them as pets in Verapine but they are respected and loved. They keep the city rat-free and we would all have died of plague without them. Even though it’s in the desert, there are sewers to cope with the monsoon rains. The cats spend long periods down there in the dark.’

Leap, sensing he was being talked about, went all boneless and purry in Rodden’s arms.

‘It’s all slums, Pol. It’s not a rich place. It doesn’t have the agricultural power that Pergamia has because most of the land is desert. But the tribespeople and
city crafters make beautiful carpets and silks. All those floaty dresses you girls wear, the fabric comes from Verapine.’ He smiled as he rubbed Leap behind the ears. ‘I grew up in the western fringes, right where the slums meet the desert. At dusk the last of the sun’s rays would stretch across the sands and turn the whole city golden. Sometimes it felt like the twilight would go on forever, just like the desert.’ His eyes hardened. ‘So you see, Your Highness, I’m as common as the bar-keep. A slum-dweller.’

I felt my face burn again. ‘I’m not a snob.’

‘We can’t help our upbringing.’ He stood, tipping Leap onto the floor. ‘Which makes me wonder why I bother,’ he muttered under his breath. Without another word he stalked up the stairs to his room.

I’m not a snob, I fumed. I’d done my own washing, hadn’t I?

There was a man with a leather cap pulled low over his eyes watching me from the other side of the tavern, so I got up and went to my room. I didn’t feel like being taken for a prostitute a second time that day. Leap followed Griffin out the window to hunt and I lay on my bed. What had he meant, ‘he wondered why he bothered’? Was he referring to me? No, that didn’t seem right. He’d been referring to himself, but the comment was too cryptic.

I fell asleep, angry and frustrated but too tired to think on the matter any longer.

A flash of light woke me. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep. It was dark now, but I thought I could hear something moving. ‘Leap?’ I called. But he hadn’t returned from hunting. I reached out with my mind but Griffin wasn’t nearby either.

Something clamped over my mouth, and I screamed silently against the obstruction. I struggled, trying to fend off whoever it was, but I was pinned, as if a dozen hands were holding me down. Except I couldn’t feel any hands. There was no one there. Only this oppressive weight, everywhere at once.

Twin points of blazing blue light appeared over my head and bored into my eyes. A harming! But not here in the room. It had sent its presence, just like Rodden could. Terrified, I flung up my mind-wall and immediately felt black tentacles probe against my barrier. They began to jab as if trying to punch through. I floundered around in my mind, searching for Rodden’s thread, Leap’s or Griffin’s, but came up with nothing. I couldn’t even feel the tor-line and that really terrified me. I could always feel the
tor-line; I dreamed about it. I was trapped and at any second the harming was about to worm its way inside my head.

I heard a bang and weak yellow light from the hall spilled into the room. Rodden stood in the doorway. I could finally see the shimmering dark form hovering over me.

Rodden cried out and ran forward. The dark presence whirled, knocking him backwards, but it still kept its pressure on my body. Rodden reeled back, hitting the wall and holding a hand to his face. I thought I saw blood.

Then he crumpled to the ground.

I panicked. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs because of the force on my chest. The harder I fought the more quickly I tired. Black spots began to dance in my vision.

Then suddenly the weight was gone. I sucked in air and sat up. Rodden was still on the floor, out cold. But now there were two shimmering forms in the room, one dark and murky, and the other blazing with white-blue light. I recognised it instantly: Rodden in his phantom form. They struggled frantically, flickering like candles caught in the wind. I tried to get up and find a weapon, but the moment I stood their whirling forms knocked me back down
again. The darker one seemed to be losing ground. Rodden’s form blazed brighter and brighter. And then with a drone like a swarm of bees, the darker one seemed to pull itself together, shove Rodden off and then zip out the window.

Rodden’s phantom form hovered in the air for a moment, as if waiting to see if the other would return, and then sank back into his body. Several silent, agonising seconds passed, and then his eyes flickered open.

I was off the bed in a second. ‘Rodden!’ My hands felt all over his body, reassuring myself that he was solid once more and all in once piece.

He groaned and sat up. His nose was bleeding and he swiped at it with the back of his hand.

‘Are you all right?’

His eyes focused. ‘Are
you
?’

I nodded. ‘He was trying to punch his way through to my mind. A few more seconds and he would have succeeded.’

‘He?’

I paused. ‘Yes. I’m sure it was a he. Even though I couldn’t see him, I could feel him. I think I saw him downstairs, right before I went to bed.’

‘And you didn’t tell me? Why not?’

‘Because,’ I said, giving him a little shove, ‘I’m
not flipping perfect. You and your mood swings distracted me, and it didn’t occur to me at the time that it was a harming.’

He sighed. ‘I think I know who you mean. In a leather cap in the corner?’

I nodded. ‘He did something to my mind. I couldn’t move because he was holding me down, but I couldn’t find you, either, or Leap or Griffin. I couldn’t even feel the tors.’

Before I could say anything more he put his arms around me and gathered me close to him. His heart beat a solid rhythm against my cheek. I loved the way he felt. I wanted to stay like that all night, but he released me.

I blushed and dropped my eyes to the ground, not knowing why him being close should make the heat rise to my face, but sure that it wasn’t something I wanted him to know. Was Carmelina right after all? Did I have a crush on Rodden? I bit my lip, suddenly feeling guilty about the way I’d spoken to Lilith. If I did have feelings for Rodden, didn’t that make her right about the impropriety of us travelling alone together? But of course, it didn’t necessarily follow that Rodden had feelings for me. Did it?

Oh,
stop it
, I chastised myself. It was just a hug, for goodness’ sake.

Griffin came hurtling through the window and perched on my bedhead, hackles raised. She made clicks of concern in the back of her throat. I could hear Leap clawing his way up to the first floor and a second later he appeared at the window and jumped into my lap. I hugged him gratefully.

‘What do you think he wanted?’ I asked Rodden.

‘I think he knows who we are. Or at least suspects.’

I felt a stab of alarm. ‘Then we have to leave, now. He could come back any second.’

Rodden stood. ‘I’ll go back and get my things. I’ll just be a few doors away. Promise you’ll call out if you see anything.’

I nodded, and he dashed back to his room. I began to collect my gear, and met him in the hall a few minutes later.

We crept down the back stairway and out to the stable. In silence we saddled our horses and led them out into the rear lane. The sound of their clopping hooves was shockingly loud in the still night air. Why was it that everything seemed louder in the dark? Every deep shadow was the harming about to leap out at us. I took a tighter grip on my crossbow.

Once we’d skirted the block and found the main
thoroughfare we mounted our horses and beat a hasty retreat from Ercan, probably the most horrid place in all Pergamia.

I steeled myself for another sleepless night.

FIVE

F
ive hours later I was nearly falling out of the saddle with fatigue, but we didn’t dare stop. If Rodden was right and the harming had guessed who I was, then others might be after us, too. The thought of what would happen to me if I was captured kept me awake. Publicly executed in Lharmell, no doubt, at some grisly ceremony, with assorted tortures visited on myself, Rodden, Leap and Griffin immediately preceding.

Just before dawn, Rodden dismounted and we led the horses off the road and into some dense scrub. I sat on the leaf litter and stretched out my sore legs. Rodden fell into a cross-legged position beside me, hands over his face. The fight had taken its toll on him, and he looked pale and exhausted.

‘Does doing your out-of-body thing usually make you this tired?’ I asked.

He shook his head. ‘I’m fine.’

But I didn’t believe him. ‘That harming might have been following us all the way from Xallentaria,’ I said.

‘I shouldn’t think so. He would have made a move before now. We must have picked him up somewhere in Ercan. That town is infested with rotten creatures. I wouldn’t be surprised if Captain Vermin let the harmings have the run of the place.’

I played the events of the night over in my head: being pinned to the bed, then the sudden shaft of light illuminating the room. ‘How did you know? I couldn’t even get a scream out.’

Rodden glanced at me, his eyes grey in the dim pre-dawn light. ‘I wasn’t asleep. All of a sudden I couldn’t feel you any more, and I knew something was wrong.’ He was silent for a moment before adding, ‘Sorry I was such an ass over dinner.’

I raised my eyebrows. An apology? I wondered if he could be running a temperature. ‘It’s all right. I’m used to it by now.’ I saw that blood had dripped from his nose all the way down his chin. ‘You’ve got blood on your face.’ I scrabbled in my pack for
something to clean him up with. ‘Did you manage to injure the harming?’ I asked.

‘No. It wasn’t much of a fight, really. He was more shocked than anything else, and that’s why he left so quickly. He was much stronger than me.’

My pack seemed strangely empty. Then I remembered why and I flung my bag away from me. ‘Damn and blast and pox! I left my spare clothes at the inn. I washed them myself, you know.’ See? Princess washing her own clothes. Not a snob after all.

‘We’ll buy you some new ones in Jefsgord.’

‘How far away is it?’

‘A day and a half.’

‘What’s between here and there?’

‘Not a lot. Wilderness mostly.’

‘Oh, terrific.’ Empty wilderness. I had hoped we would be on the boat later in the day. I pictured harmings behind every bush, us being ambushed on a lonely road. My eyes were gritty and sore from exhaustion; I wouldn’t be much good at fighting off an attack if it came to it. But I didn’t want to sleep. What if the harmings found us?

‘We should get some sleep. It’s been too long,’ Rodden said.

I must have looked stricken, as he said, ‘You sleep. I’ll stay awake.’

We’d always left Leap and Griffin on guard while we slept, but that didn’t feel safe enough right now. ‘Really? You haven’t rested either.’

He reached for my hand and squeezed it. ‘Go to sleep.’

I wrapped my cloak around my body and lay down, my head pillowed against my bags. I felt for Rodden’s mind-thread, his sweet familiarity. I couldn’t get the harming out of my head. The way his presence had held me down, and the desolate sense of being disconnected from everyone and everything as he had plundered my mind.

For once, Rodden let me keep the thread in my grasp and I fell asleep holding on for dear life.

It was late morning when I woke. I wouldn’t say I was refreshed, but I was no longer one of the walking dead. Rodden was sitting up and staring out over the scrubby plain, loaded crossbow in his hands. It was notched with a yelbar tip: he’d been on the lookout for harmings, not rabbits. His eyes were tired, but stubbornly vigilant.

‘Your turn,’ I muttered, sitting up and reaching for the water skin.

He shook his head. ‘I’m fine. Let’s get moving.’

I protested, saying he needed to rest, but he ignored me. Once we were on horseback I strung my bow and took out a few regular arrows, fletched with Griffin’s moulted feathers. My crossbow was perched in front of me, yelbar bolts at the ready. But we needed blood and I still didn’t trust my aim with that contraption. Rodden was slumped in his saddle and barely in a fit state to ride, let alone to hunt. I aimed my bow into the scrub on my left.

And waited.

My arms grew tired, but I kept the bow up. After ten minutes Griffin came swooping back with a swamp rat for us, and I told her to give it to Rodden. She dropped it in his lap, and, bleary-eyed, he cut its neck and began drinking the meagre blood.

Afterwards he perked up, and together we brought down a rabbit and then a seagull. My heart gladdened at the sight of the bird. We were nearing the coast.

After our meal, with my crossbow in one hand and reins in the other, I urged my horse into a canter. I heard Rodden follow and, side by side, we ate up the lonely road to Jefsgord, alternately cantering and trotting for several hours. Every time we slowed to give the horses a rest I felt those black tentacles jabbing at
my mind. I knew it was just my imagination but I couldn’t keep myself from peering over my shoulder.

In the evening we roasted the rabbit carcass. Rodden fell asleep while he was eating, something that I’d thought was impossible to do. I tucked his cloak about him and reluctantly put the fire out. A harming would spot it from miles off.

I settled myself against a tree to keep watch. The sky darkened into full night and a half-moon rose. I kept myself occupied by making up names for the constellations, as I didn’t know the real ones. I had just finished naming the Hunting Eagle and the Rude Bar-keep when I saw a bat pass over us.

No, not a bat. A brant.

I clamped down on my mind and was just about to kick Rodden awake when I saw the giant bird fly away. I watched closely, wondering if the rider had detected us and was winging its way back to its friends. By the way the brant was circling over the countryside it still seemed to be looking for something, so it probably hadn’t spotted us.

I gave up naming constellations after that. Around two hours after midnight I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer and shook Rodden awake. ‘Just two hours,’ I whispered to him, ‘and then I’ll take watch again.’

But when I awoke it was morning. Rodden was attempting to shave with his knife, a bit of soap, and no mirror. I scowled at him. ‘You were supposed to wake me up hours ago.’

The soap slipped from his fingers into his lap. ‘Oh, damn. Hmm? What’s wrong?’ He began scraping at his cheek with the knife.

‘Did you see any brants?’

He shook his head and then hissed in pain. Blood welled from a tiny cut on his jaw.

‘Give me that,’ I said, holding out my hand for the knife. ‘You’re making a mess.’

I knelt in front of him and took the knife. The blood was beading up like rubies and I dabbed at it with my finger.

I don’t know what made me do it. An impulse, or curiosity. I put the finger in my mouth. His blood tasted like he smelled, like distilled Rodden.

His eyes widened. ‘What the hell? Why did you do that?’

My face flamed as I realised what I’d done. I let my hair fall in front of my eyes as I tested the sharpness of the blade. Scraping it across his check, I avoided his incredulous look. I tried to concentrate but the taste of his blood was heavy on my tongue. Was I getting a taste for human blood? But it wasn’t
thirst that made me lick my finger. It was curiosity. A Rodden-specific curiosity. I wondered what it would be like to bite him. Not in a killing way – more like the way Leap sometimes bit me when he got playful. Testing my reaction, my ability to fight back. Horrified by the image that was forming in my mind, I squashed my thoughts before he could overhear them.

But I couldn’t suppress one thought: that I liked the way he tasted.

I hadn’t had much practice at shaving so Rodden’s face ended up looking rather scrappy. I gave him back the knife without a word and found I couldn’t look him in the eye as we packed up camp and mounted our horses. Once we were on the open road I was glad to ride behind him, out of his sight.

By midday the hot sun had burnt away my embarrassment and most of the strange, fluttery feeling I got whenever the image of grappling with Rodden entered my mind. We began the descent into Jefsgord. The city sat on the curving coastline, fortified by wooden palisades. There was very little farmland, the scrub extending right up to the defences in places. The dock, even seen from the far side, was prodigious. Ships’ masts sprouted from the water like a forest of masts and ropes. Clouds of gulls
wheeled over the boats though we couldn’t yet hear their screaming cries.

I pulled up next to Rodden. ‘Is it safe, do you think? What if that harming got ahead of us and warned all his buddies in the town?’

‘Jefsgord isn’t like Ercan. I know the captain of the guard here. He’s good at his job and the harming presence will have been kept to a minimum. We’ll go straight to him, and then down to the dock to find a trade-ship for the crossing to Pol.’

I was relieved to see archers atop the city gate, attentive as those in the capital.

Inside the guardhouse, Captain Helmsrid greeted Rodden like an old friend and they shook hands warmly. I waited to be introduced as his sister, but to my surprise Rodden said, ‘This is Princess Lilith’s younger sister, Zeraphina of the House of Amentia.’

The captain took in my black hair and icy eyes. Griffin was perched on my arm and Leap was already sniffing under the man’s desk. ‘I see,’ he said, and I rather thought he did. He bowed. ‘Your Highness.’

I bobbed, feeling odd acting so formally after spending the night lying on dirt. I sat down, hoping they would get things over with quickly so we could get down to the dock. We’d be safe once we were on board, I was sure.

But Rodden launched into an explanation of what had happened in Ercan.

‘Why didn’t it kill you outright?’ the captain asked, turning to me.

‘I think it wanted to make certain who I was first.’ I remembered the jabbing black tentacles and shuddered.

Helmsrid looked grim. ‘We’ll post extra guards. My men reported brants in the sky last night, something we haven’t seen in months. Here’s the body count from the last report.’ He passed a sheet of paper to Rodden. ‘Three exsanguinations: two terminal cases in a hospice and one destitute, made to look as if they had died in their sleep.’

‘Anything else to report?’

Helmsrid shook his head. ‘Where are you going from here; back to Xallentaria?’

‘No, by trade-ship to Pol.’

Helmsrid frowned. ‘Then there is something I should mention. It could be nothing, but . . . I was drinking with a sea captain last night and he mentioned the inordinate number of ships missing in action of late. It’s something I’d heard about, of course, but until now I’ve dismissed it as pirates, or wrecks. Some of the boats that dock here are floating deathtraps with only their barnacles holding them
together. But this captain was telling me that good sturdy ships are disappearing and the crew never heard from again. He agreed it could be pirates after the cargo, too, but the last two ships to vanish have been empty. Pirates aren’t fools. They can tell which ships are loaded up by how low they sit in the water. These two would have been sitting very high indeed, and obviously empty, so it doesn’t make a lot of sense. Unless . . .’ He trailed off, looking between us.

Rodden nodded. ‘Thank you, Captain. I’ll keep that in mind.’

As we made our way down to the docks I asked, ‘Harming attacks?’

‘It would seem so.’

I sighed. I had assumed we would be safe on open water, but apparently not.

Down on the dock, it was dark among the bellies of the enormous vessels. Fat, shiny seals lay on the crossbeams beneath the boardwalk, barking at each other and slapping their sides with their flippers. Leap peered through the planks at them, his tail lashing. He didn’t seem to be disturbed by all the water – but he was a drain-cat, after all. Griffin, who couldn’t help looking fierce all the time, was glaring more than usual and digging her claws into
my gauntlet. I wondered what could have got into her until I saw her murderous looks at the seagulls screeching and wheeling overhead. Their cries were hurting her sensitive ears. The gulls followed us in a cacophonous cloud, alarmed by the bird of prey in their midst.

The air was pungent with damp seaweed and rotting wood. I could see what Captain Helmsrid meant about floating deathtraps; we passed some very sick-looking vessels. Rodden dismissed ship after ship, some that looked quite acceptable to me, and I feared we wouldn’t find even one that met his exacting standards. But at last he called to a sailor carrying a calico bale up the loading plank of the
Jessamine
.

‘Who captains this ship?’ he asked.

‘Cap’n Krig,’ the sailor replied. He was heavily tanned, the skin around his eyes prematurely wrinkled by the sun. Faded blue tattoos of anchors and mermaids decorated his wiry forearms.