The Shadow’s Curse (17 page)

‘Somehow, I think not. He needs you, doesn’t he?’

‘I suppose so.’ For once, she felt grateful for the pendants around her neck.

‘I think he just wants you out of sight of what is to come. More for your sake than anything else. I somehow doubt he is going to be merciful to Mermaden.’

‘Will you tell me what he does?’

Erdene set her mouth in a firm line, but only so that she could prevent herself from grinning. The corners of her mouth pulled upwards. ‘Only if Khareh-khan doesn’t ask me otherwise.’

At the bottom of the stairs, they came to a long hallway, with wooden doors placed at even intervals on both sides. Wadi swallowed, hard. ‘Are these the cells?’

Erdene shrugged. ‘I’ve only been here once before, but this is where some of the more junior monks live. Pennar isn’t exactly a prison; it is not built for housing captives – but they have a few barred cells for badly behaved monks further along.’

She led her down the hallway. As they passed one door the hairs on the back of Wadi’s neck stood on end, her palms suddenly becoming clammy inside their bonds. An involuntary shudder rocked her body. It was a familiar feeling . . . of shadow. She looked from side to side, but there was nothing in the narrow hallway. She looked up at Erdene, who was showing no sign of anything amiss except for a bead of sweat that had appeared on her forehead. They were underground, and it was cool.

What is behind those doors?
Wadi thought.

They turned down yet another hallway, and through a heavy wooden door with a small window in the top. It opened onto a corridor with a lighted torch hanging on the wall. The flame glinted against something: the iron bars of a row of cells. Erdene took a set of keys from beneath her tunic, and undid the lock on the first cell. Wadi shuffled inside. It was an empty room – with nothing that even closely resembled a bed, or a chamber pot. She turned around.

Erdene shut the door behind her. Wadi put her hands around the iron bars and gave them a weak tug, even though she knew it was futile. This time, Erdene really grinned at her. ‘Here,’ she said. She took her cloak from around her shoulders, and passed it through the bars. ‘At least have something to lie on.’

Wadi took it, surprised at the girl’s generosity. Then Erdene spun on her heel and was gone.

Wadi was alone.

‘Are these the cells?’

The words sent chills running up and down his spine. He recognised that voice. He rushed to the door of his room, pressed his nose to the wood, his eye to a crack, but it was so dark he could hardly see a thing. He wanted to open the door, but as the people moved past, he didn’t want to draw attention. He saw the flicker of a torch rounding a corner, the retreating figure of a tall woman, though he couldn’t see her face. Her cloak swept up as she turned the corner and Raim thought he caught a glimpse of a shimmer at the woman’s side. The shimmer of a Yun sword. Mhara had warned him there might be Yun presence here too. He just hadn’t expected to see it so soon.

Not long ago, maybe an hour, if that, Mhara had come in to wake him. Despite all the anxiety, he had slept longer and deeper than he had in an age. Somehow, though, it made him feel even groggier than usual, sleep clouding his thoughts as Mhara spoke in insistent whispers.

‘Khareh is nearby. He sent two Yun to make sure the prisoner was here: the girl, Erdene, and a Yelak Yun, Imal. Both would recognize me.’

Raim blinked sleep from his eyes and waited for his sight to adjust to the semi-darkness. ‘I’m not so sure Erdene would, not with your new hair.’ He didn’t want to mention the fact of her gaunt face and the new scars that criss-crossed her body. She looked like a woman brought back to life, which was exactly what she was.

Mhara nodded. ‘But Imal would. We trained together as apprentices. I must be careful. Khareh will come next.’

‘Was there sign of Wadi?’

‘You say she would look more Alashan than Darhanian?’

‘Yes.’

‘I saw no one of that description, but as I said – Khareh only sent a small entourage this way. She may well be being kept prisoner deep within the army camp.’

Raim cracked his knuckles. ‘I will get to her.’ He stood up and pulled on the fresh tunic that Mhara offered him.

‘No, it’s too dangerous right now. When Khareh comes, he will have this entire place locked down. But once he has the prisoner, he’ll want to put on a public display for his execution. That’s when you make your move. Amid all the confusion and revelry. Find Wadi, then get out of here to meet Tarik. Nothing else.’

‘When I make my move? What about you?’ Raim asked.

Mhara avoided his eye. ‘I won’t be with you.’

‘What do you mean?’ Suddenly his heart stopped at the thought of his old mentor not being with him. ‘You said you were going to come south with me?’

‘I have my own promise to fulfil,’ she said. Her eyes flicked to his. ‘If we plan it just right then you will be able to get out, and I’ll be able to—’

Draikh moved to Raim’s side and put a ghostly hand on Raim’s shoulder. Raim understood. ‘No, stop, Mhara. I can’t know. If I know, I might try to stop you. I won’t be able to help myself. But – will I see you again?’

Mhara shook her head. ‘I don’t know. But Raim . . . be careful.’ Mhara swept aside the cloak, which rested over her shoulder, to show Raim the holster of her Yun sword. She put her hand on the hilt, and held it there for a second. Then she drew it. The magnificent weapon seemed to fill the entire room with light with its brilliance. Encased within the glass-like sword was her promise-knot to Batar-khan. ‘Maybe it would be better if you went straight to the South without looking for Wadi. There is still time. You know the place where you can meet Tarik – go there.’

‘No.’

Mhara stared at him, but Raim was no longer her apprentice to be quelled with a glance.

‘You might not have a choice. But I do. And I choose to try to rescue. Don’t worry. My plan doesn’t involve getting caught. Plus, I have Draikh and – I guess, somewhere – Lady Chabi, who will do everything in her power not to see me die before I go south. But if there’s an opportunity to find Wadi, then I have to take it.’

Mhara still stared at him, but he thought – or maybe he hoped – he saw a measure of respect in her eyes.

And then she had left him, to await his fate.

Hearing Wadi’s voice outside his door only reinforced his belief that he had made the right decision. His heart swelled at the thought of seeing her again. This must have been ordained by the gods.

‘That was her, wasn’t it, Draikh?’ he asked. He couldn’t really believe that he could be so lucky.

‘I’d know that voice anywhere,’ the shadow replied, and Raim was glad to hear he sounded as determined as Raim felt.

He pumped a fist in the air. Once she was free, then they could both escape in the mayhem of Mermaden’s likely execution, get to the ship, and go south: together. Once he was free from his vow he could return to Darhan and try to win the hearts of the people – or he and Wadi could leave to find their own place in the world. A destiny not dictated to them by a strange Council, or bound to them by oaths neither of them wanted: the knot around Raim’s wrist, and the stone around Wadi’s neck.

It took all of the willpower he possessed not to rush out there and take down the woman that was with Wadi and free her then and there. He had his Yun training, as well as the power of surprise.

But then – just few moments later, the woman came striding back down the hallway. Raim could hear her heavy boots as she thundered around the corner. Raim’s heart stopped for a moment as the boots stopped in front of his door. Raim’s fingers closed around the hilt of the sword, ready to strike at any moment. But the woman only sighed and then moved on. Wadi wasn’t with her. That meant she had to have been left close by.

Raim let out a long breath.

He waited a few seconds, and then pressed his hand against the door and inched it open. The hallway was silent. He slipped out, and Draikh followed. He crept in the direction the women had gone, his boots making just a soft shuffle on the stone floor. He rounded one corner, and then another, and then he saw the flickering of a light up ahead, through a small window in a wooden door. His breath quickened.

The door was not locked. He pushed it open to find a long hallway, lined with cells, and another door at the far end.

He heard the sound of an iron bar rattling. ‘Erdene?’ said a female voice.

Raim ran down the hallway. ‘Wadi!’

‘Oh, Sola . . . Raim?’ Her hands came shooting through the iron bars as Raim approached. They pulled each other into an embrace, the cold iron forming a barrier between them. ‘What are you doing here?’ she cried.

‘I’ve come to free you!’ said Raim, taking a split second to relish the sound of her voice.

‘Thank the gods!’

They eventually separated and Raim ran his fingers along the gate until he found the lock. ‘I should be able to break this . . .’

‘How did you know I was here?’

‘I’ve been looking for you for so long, and then I stopped here on my way south with Mhara and my brother . . . oh gods, Wadi, Mhara is alive! So is Dharma! There is so much to tell you, so much to catch up with. I’ll be able to tell you everything on the journey. We need to get to the Temple of Bones, where a ship is waiting for us.’

He took a dagger out of his belt and flipped it over so that the handle was facing downwards. He then smashed at the lock, trying to get it to spring open.

‘South?’

‘That’s where I can finally get rid of this scar. The woman who gave me this is my mother – she said that I am the rightful heir to the Darhan khanate. If I find her, and make that promise to her again, then I will no longer be marked as an oathbreaker and I will use the Southern King’s army to return to Darhan.’

‘And then you can beat Khareh and take your place as the true Khan.’ Her eyes opened wide.

Raim blushed. ‘Well, yes . . .’ He hit the lock again, but it was surprisingly stubborn. The power of the blow resonated through his wrist and up his arm.

Wadi grabbed his hands through the bar, and held them tight. ‘You have to succeed. Please.’

A sudden noise from further down the hallway made them jump. ‘Oh gods,’ Wadi whimpered. ‘They’ve come back to check on me. What if someone knows you’re here? They can’t catch you, Raim. You have to get rid of your scar. You have to come back here with an army, take back the throne. Then we can change things. Together.’ She put both her hands on his face. ‘The people will follow you. I know it.’

‘I’m not leaving you here.’ Raim stepped back to the entrance to the cells and slammed the door shut. He took his dagger and jammed it into the lock, to make it more difficult to open.

He drew his sword and hacked with it at the lock on Wadi’s cell. But no matter what, it wouldn’t budge. If only he had a Yun sword – that would cut through anything. Plans raced through his mind. Could he get Mhara here? The bird call?
Draikh? Can you do anything?

Draikh swooped in front of him, sliding through the bars of the cell. He put his spirit-hands to the lock, and tugged. But nothing happened. ‘I don’t think there’s anything I can do,’ he said.

‘It’s no use,’ said Wadi. ‘You have to get out of here. Leave me. You have to fulfil your destiny.’

‘No, I’m not going without you.’

‘Raim, you have to. But wait . . . let me make a promise to you.’

Raim stopped mid-strike. ‘What?’

‘Let me make a promise to you. Then if I break it I can have a piece of you with me, just like Khareh does. Just like you have Draikh.’

‘Wadi, you’re out of your mind. I could never do that to you. I could never make you an oathbreaker. You don’t want that.’ He hesitated then. What if
he
took a piece of her? He looked at Draikh. If had one spirit, then why not another . . .

There was a loud bang as something – Khareh’s men, most likely – shuddered against the door.

Wadi shook her head, and her voice changed from desperate to insistent. ‘Go – there’s no time! Khareh will bring shadows; you’ll be caught and killed. You’re outnumbered here. Come back when the fight is more even.’

‘But, Wadi—’

‘Go! Just come back to Darhan.’ She spoke the last sentence using her hands in the desert language of the Alashan. Then she changed the final symbol by moving one of her fingers. The meaning changed to:
Come back to me.
Raim clasped her hand one final time.

And then he started running.

The dagger flew out of the lock, and the door crashed open. Raim had been gone mere seconds – disappearing down the hallway and into the darkness. Wadi prayed he had fled fast enough, even as her heart ached for him to have stayed.

‘Why was this door jammed?’ asked one of the guards. They raced up to Wadi’s cell. She needed to distract them. She tried to act like there was someone in with her, and that she was using her body to hide them. The soldiers fumbled with the keys to the cell, rather than continuing down the hall. Raim had dented the lock so they had trouble with the key.

They swung open the iron bars and kicked at the cloak in a heap beside Wadi, which she had bunched up with her feet to look more human. But there was nothing there.

By then, Khareh had caught up with his guards. He strode into Wadi’s cell.

‘He’s here! He’s been here! Have you seen him? Where is he?’

Wadi stared up into his face. ‘Who?’

‘You know who!’ he shouted. ‘Raimanan! He’s been here.’ He looked down at the cloak, then at the stupefied faces of his guards. ‘You idiots, he’s getting away! Follow him down the hallway . . . come on! Go! Go!’ He rounded on Wadi. ‘Where is he? What did he say to you?’ Khareh was pacing the cell, yelling the questions at Wadi, but not waiting for answers – not that she wanted to give him any. ‘He’s been here! You’ve seen him!’ he yelled at her again – statements, not questions.

Finally, tears welled up in Wadi’s eyes, despite the fact she tried her best to keep them down, and all the emotion of the past few moments came crashing in a huge wave over her. ‘Yes! Yes, I have!’ she blurted out.