The Shadow’s Curse (35 page)

‘As long as I’m telling you, what does it matter? You learn quickly and I can tell you everything you need to know.’

A loud cry disturbed Raim just as he was ready to settle beneath his Alashan cloak. Draikh hissed in his ear. ‘Quickly.’

What is it?

Draikh didn’t even have to reply. A sharp crack filled the air, followed by a scream.

Raim jumped to his feet and ran toward the noise.

A young boy, not wearing a cloak to shield him from the sun, cowered in front of the king, red lines striped across his back. The king wasn’t holding the whip, but one of his guards was, sweat dripping from his forehead. A dark stain was spreading across the sand – a tipped-over waterskin leaking its contents.

Already the heat was rising in the air, sapping Raim’s strength, but with everything he had, he flung himself in front of the boy. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Move aside, boy. He is nothing.’

‘If he is nothing then why are you beating him?’

‘He is my slave. I can do as I please with him.’

Lady Chabi rushed forward, grabbing Raim by the arm, then turned to face the king. ‘Your Highness, he doesn’t understand. They don’t have slaves in Darhan.’

‘That’s right, we don’t need to enslave children to hold our power.’ Raim drew back into fighting stance. ‘Now stop beating him.’

In response, several of the king’s guards jumped up and drew their swords, pointing them at Raim.

‘You think you can fight me barehanded, boy?’ said the king, and he threw his head back to laugh.

He didn’t laugh long. Within a flash, Draikh swirled against two of the guards, disarming them and giving one of the swords to Raim, keeping the other himself. ‘Let the boy go,’ Raim said, his voice like gravel.

‘Raim, don’t do this,’ said his mother, her voice pleading.

‘Listen to her, Raim. I know you might be a sage, but I am a king – and a king is always prepared.’ He snapped his fingers, and two of the soldiers emerged from the king’s tent. Raim held his sword firm, even as the pit in his stomach opened as wide as a gorge.

‘It’s bad. I can’t do anything to stop it,’ said Draikh. ‘Not without killing everyone.’

Then Raim saw what Draikh meant. The two guards dragged behind them a prisoner, a dagger at the prisoner’s throat. It took everything in Raim’s power not to throw down his sword at the sight. It was Tarik.

‘Yes, Mother Sea brings me many gifts. Now if you or your blasted shadow move even an inch with those swords, I will slice his throat.’

The point of Raim’s sword quivered, and then lowered.

‘Better. And I will have none of that when I am the Golden King. You can rule your pitiful lands in the North but you will always answer to me. Do you hear me, Raimanan?’

I hear you. But I will not listen.

Aloud, he said: ‘Give me Tarik.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said the king. ‘I think I’ll keep this one as a little collateral. Take the boy if you want him, he’s nothing to me. But this one,’ he gestured at Tarik, ‘stays with me until we reach Lazar.’

Oyu screeched and circled overhead, externalizing the frustration that Raim felt. The king looked up sharply at the sound, his eyes following the garfalcon’s movements. Then he looked back at Raim.

‘What is that?’ The king spoke each word slowly and deliberately. His eyes were focused not on Raim’s face but lower, at his chest. Beside him, Lady Chabi’s face had drained of colour.

Raim grit his teeth and looked down. In the commotion, the ties of his robe had come undone, revealing the tip of the black scar of permanence representing his Absolute Vow to Khareh.

I don’t care what the king thinks of me
, he realized, with a shock.
I’m going to be the Khan. I don’t need his permission.
He grabbed at his tunic and ripped it open, baring the scar in all its glory. Oyu let out another screech, but this time it didn’t sound pained – it sounded triumphant.

‘This is the source of my power,’ he said.

The king’s jaw dropped. ‘Is it an oath?’

‘An unbroken vow. The strongest kind. This is the vow that will make
me
the Khan. Don’t you forget the bargain you made with the Council, or I will make you pay for your treachery.’ He spun round, grabbed the slave boy by the tunic and – without waiting for the king to protest – headed back to the Alashan.

Lady Chabi moved to follow, but the king stopped her. Raim thought that she would follow anyway, but instead she stayed back with the king. She even placed a hand on his arm and moved him away.

What is her plan?
Raim asked Draikh.

‘I don’t know. But I don’t like it, whatever it is.’

They rested at opposite ends of the cavernous storeroom, facing each other. Wadi shut her eyes, but her heart beat so loudly in her ears that she couldn’t sleep. She didn’t know if she had the guts to do what Dharma wanted her to do.

If Khareh predicted her plan, he would not be merciful with her.

She must have fallen asleep at some point, because in what felt like barely a second later, Khareh was gently shaking her shoulder.

‘Come on, Wadi. We’ve rested for long enough.’

She sat up, embarrassed that she’d slept for so long and that Khareh had been forced to wake her. She wiped the sleep from her eyes and shook her head quickly to awaken her senses.

‘We don’t have much further to go,’ she said, leading Khareh into the main tunnel. Her stomach turned, and she had to grip the wall next to her.

‘Wadi?’ Khareh’s voice was filled with concern.

‘Sorry,’ she said, between gasps of air. ‘It’s the shadows. The haunts. I have never been so close to so many of them.’ The tunnel was so thick with shadow the torches she and Khareh carried were barely able to cast any light in front of them.

‘Do you know what I see when I look at them?’ asked Khareh. ‘I see faces. Hundreds of faces. Faces that will help me to victory.’

Wadi couldn’t look.

She steadied herself. Then she gestured for him to follow, and they headed down the tunnel. They came to the next doorway quickly, and with the turn of her pass-stone, Wadi let them through.

‘You can get rid of those stones soon,’ said Khareh.

Wadi let herself smile. ‘Yes, only two more turns left. But I was rid of it once before, and somehow it still comes back to me. My destiny is tied to these stones, I fear.’

‘I won’t let it stay that way,’ said Khareh.

Wadi shrugged. ‘In a way, I want it to. I want to help. It’s not right that all those people are stuck in Lazar, with no way of returning to their homes and families even after their oaths are forgotten. It’s barbaric. The sages didn’t think of that when they sealed the tunnels.’

‘No, they didn’t. They also prevented any trade between the North and South. Darhan has suffered because of it.’

Wadi searched Khareh’s face for hint of a malicious plan, but he seemed genuinely concerned about the barrier to progress.

The sound of rushing water filled the tunnel, and Khareh’s eyes grew wide as they passed a natural window in the rock. He leaned against the edge and peered down at the sight of the massive underground river that coursed its way deep under the mountains, and eventually through Lazar. They were further down the river than the enormous cavern she had taken Raim through, not so long ago.

Here, they were closer to where the waterworms were bred. In fact, only a few steps later they came across one of the breeding caves. Khareh stared in amazement at the millions of little eggs sitting in shallow pools of water. They seemed to glow with their own supernatural light, illuminating the caves in the darkness.

‘Only a few worms will actually make it out alive,’ said Wadi. ‘But they breed all these eggs, in case. It’s a delicate process. The Shan have to make sure they capture the worm right at the moment it hatches. If they don’t, it will try to drink up all the water in the cave – including all the eggs that are around it – and make itself explode.’

‘Incredible,’ said Draikh. ‘I’ve heard of the Shan. Garus was one of them.’

Wadi nodded. ‘They are led by an old man named Puutra-bar now. They style themselves after the Baril, hence the “bar” ending.’

‘And this is how the Alashan find water?’

‘This is what they trade for, yes. Waterworms in exchange for giving oathbreakers safe passage across the desert and bringing them to the city. But they would rather not have to trade with Lazar at all.’

‘So the Alashan would welcome it if I opened the trade routes between Lazar and Darhan again?’

Wadi nodded. ‘They would welcome it if they no longer had to transport Chauk through the desert. Too many have died needlessly. We do not find them all.’ She paused. ‘We are almost there.’

At the final turn, the atmosphere between them changed. They could both sense the heat rising in the tunnel. It would have felt oppressive if it hadn’t been so exciting. They were reaching the end of their journey.

Even the spirits that guarded the tunnel seemed impatient to let them through. ‘This is the final gate,’ said Wadi. ‘Maybe you want to go first?’

He stepped past her, and turned the final corner of the tunnel. ‘Wadi . . . it’s magnificent.’

She stepped out behind him. Her heart stopped in her chest and her breath caught. It was possibly the most wondrous sight she had ever seen. They were high up in the cliffs, looking down through a window onto the entire desert. The sun was just setting, bathing the dunes in a red-orange glow. Unlike before, Wadi could see steps cut into the side of the cliff, steps that would lead down to the path into Lazar. And she would be able to find that path and bring Khareh to it. She had the navigational instincts of the Alashan. It was in her blood to be able to find Lazar and negotiate the mysterious avenues of the desert.

Something glinted on the horizon, catching the light and reflecting it. Wadi shielded her eyes against it.

‘What direction is that?’ asked Khareh.

‘It’s . . . south,’ said Wadi.

‘That’s what I thought. That’s the Southern King’s army. They’re almost here.’

‘The entire army?’

‘They must have had help. Maybe it’s one of your tribes?’

‘The Alashan? The Alashan wouldn’t help anyone through the desert. Unless . . .’

‘Unless they had a great enough trade.’

That wasn’t what Wadi was going to say. She was going to say
unless they had Raim
. But she nodded. Let Khareh think that.

‘Then we have no time to lose. They look only a day’s march away. That means we have to be ready for them.’

‘Khareh?’

‘Yes, Wadi?’

‘Claim the city of Lazar as your own. Even without all the pass-stones, you are a sage. They will need protecting.’

‘They will accept me as their leader?’

She nodded. ‘I can help convince them.’

‘And you would do that?’ he asked.

Her throat turned dry. ‘Of course,’ she managed to choke out.

‘Well then, Wadi. Take me into Lazar.’

‘As you ask, Khareh-khan.’

He had marked the exact place where Tarik had been held prisoner.

There was no way that the king was going to get away with threatening him and holding his brother prisoner. So he decided to do the unthinkable. It filled him with fear and went against everything he had ever known about desert survival. But it was the only way: he was going to rescue Tarik, but he was doing it at the height of day, when Naran was at her peak.

Even opening his eyes at this time of day felt unnatural. But Mesan assured him that he could do it. The Alashan managed it on rare occasions – they trained for it, learning from experience how to move in the heat of the day – and now Raim was going to attempt a daylight run without destroying his body in the process. His eyelids peeled apart, squinting in protest at the bright light. Even the slightest exertion – just blinking – caused beads of sweat to appear on his forehead. His mind screamed at him that this was wrong, but he kept going. He stretched his legs, keeping every movement slow and smooth, so as not to disturb the others around him. The king was hidden away in his tent and the soldiers around him were all sleeping, their heads completely covered by their cloaks, masking them against the sun.

Being awake while everyone was asleep was strange. They resembled more a sea of rocks on golden water, pebbles on a beach, than an army.

Draikh
, Raim reached out to the spirit.

‘I am here.’

Are you feeling strong?

‘I’m ready to kick some southern backside, if that’s what you mean.’

Good
. Raim held his arms out and Draikh lifted him off the ground. That way he wouldn’t make any vibrations that might signal his approach. Together, they flew over to Tarik’s prison tent. Raim held his breath as he flew past the guards, but no one moved a muscle. Sweat poured from Raim’s face, and he wiped his eyes with his upper arm. Draikh dropped him down by the tent, and Raim swiftly pulled up one of the pegs anchoring it into the ground. The bottom edge of the tent rippled and Raim froze, his muscles tensed, wondering if anyone inside the tent had seen.

He waited for one second. Then another.

No movement. He breathed a quick sigh of relief, then dropped down to his belly. Slithering like a sand-snake, he made his way into the tent.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior from the brightness of the outside. The air inside the tent was incredibly humid, made sticky and wet by the breathing of its occupants. Raim much preferred to be outside, where at least the air was dry.

In the far end of the tent, there was a cage, like something Raim might use to trap rabbits on the steppes. Cramped inside the tiny space, folded up like a scroll, his wrists wrapped in chains, was Tarik. On the opposite side of the tent, two guards were asleep, curled up under their Alashan-like hoods even though they weren’t directly outside.

‘Surely one of them should be awake,’ said Draikh.

Gods, who wouldn’t fall asleep in this tent? Even I feel drowsy and I’ve only been in here for a few seconds.