Broken World Book Four - The Staff of Law (23 page)

The air
swelled, filling with the misty wetness of Shissar, the sound of
rushing water and soft hiss of rain. Talsy recoiled with a gasp,
startled by the unexpected manifestation. When she looked again, a
man lay on the log, propped up on one arm. The face he turned
towards her was that of a young god, breath-taking in its beauty
and youthful perfection. His eyes were closed, and his shorn hair
spiked with wetness that gleamed on his flawless golden skin. She
stared at him, struck by his air of wildness that was so much
stronger than Chanter’s, poised on the brink of flight at the
slightest hint of danger. Sensing his extreme wariness, she
remained where she was and held out a hand, palm up.

“
No harm.”

He appeared to
study her, then swung his legs off the log and sat up, holding out
a hand, palm up, in the ritual gesture.

“
No harm.” He had a soft, lilting voice, a fraction higher in
timbre than Chanter’s but with the same musical tone.

Unable to
think of anything intelligent to say, she stammered, “I-I’m
Talsy.”

The youth
inclined his head in acknowledgement, and she found herself
inexplicably nervous. He perched on the log like a cat coiled to
spring, his lean muscles ridged with tension. Apparently he was not
overly reassured by her offer of safety, and she wondered who had
betrayed him in the past. As the silence lengthened and the Mujar’s
nostrils flared with unease, she searched her numb brain for
something to say.

“
You - are you better?”

“
Better?” He frowned, tilting his head. “Than what?”

“
I mean... are you well?”

“
Yes. Are you a dream?”

“
No.” Nervous laughter bubbled in her at his strange question.
“No, I’m not. I - we rescued you, from the city. Do you
remember?”

“
I remember much pain.”

“
Well, you’re safe now; no one will harm you here.”

He turned his
head slowly, as if looking around. “Then this must be the sacred
land of Marrana, the place of the dead. How is it that she came for
me so soon?”

“
She didn’t! You’re not dead, how could you be? Mujar can’t die
for a hundred years.” Aware of the foolishness of her words, she
cursed her inadequacy to deal with this lost young Mujar, who
looked confused. Realising that she was not equipped to handle the
situation, she whispered, “Chanter, help me.”

The
youngster’s head jerked around, and he rose a little unsteadily to
his feet. “That’s a Mujar name.”

“
Yes. He’s my friend, don’t be afraid.”

“
I’m not afraid. Why should I be?” His tension belied his
words, yet he did not seem frightened, just nervous.

A rustle of
wings made her turn as a raven landed behind her, transforming in a
rush of wind. Chanter frowned at the young Mujar for a moment, then
looked at Talsy.

“
You need help?”

“
Yes, well...” She shook her head, baffled by the way he
ignored the youngster. “He needs help. He’s confused; he thinks
he’s dead.”

Chanter
glanced at the youth, who stood motionless on the lake shore. “He’s
been through a trauma. He’s still recovering.”

“
Well help him! Tell him where he is. I don’t know how
to.”

Chanter shook
his head with a smile. “Lowman emotions. He’s quite capable of
figuring that out for himself, once he takes a look around, and you
could explain it to him as easily as I, but I’ll tell him if you
wish.”

Talsy held her
breath, not knowing what to expect from this first meeting of two
Mujar that she had ever witnessed. Chanter turned to the youngster,
who bowed his head.

“
Father.”

“
Be assured, you’re safe here. This is reality. You have been
saved and brought to a good place, where I have kept the land in
order.” Chanter spoke in a brisk, offhand manner.

The youth
relaxed visibly. “Then I owe a great gratitude to the ones who did
this thing.”

“
To her.” Chanter indicated Talsy, who flushed.

The youngster
bowed his head in her direction, and made a slow graceful gesture
with one hand. “Gratitude.”

Talsy shot
Chanter a nervous glance, and he raised a brow, smiling
encouragement. The young Mujar waited for the expected reply, and
she completed the formal ritual with the traditional answer.

“
Wish.”

“
Wish.”

“
Questions.”

The youth
smiled, a flash of white teeth that lighted his countenance. “A
small wish for such a great favour. Ask.”

“
What’s your name?”

Chanter
scowled at her, but she ignored him. She knew that Mujar considered
asking for a name rude, but she wanted to know. Chanter’s brows
rose when the youngster answered, “Law.”

“
That’s not your true name,” Chanter said. “You’ve granted a
wish, you must answer the questions.”

“
It’s the only name I have,” Law replied, shrugging.

“
It’s not a Mujar name.”

Talsy
interrupted the brewing argument. “Law, how old are you?”

“
By the turning of the world, seven Trueman years.”

“
Why don’t you open your eyes?”

Law hesitated.
“I cannot.”

“
Are you truly blind?”

“
By the eyes, yes.”

Talsy glanced
enquiringly at Chanter, confused by this odd reply, which hinted at
other means of sight.

He explained,
“He can see the visible Powers, so he’s not completely blind. Of
course, if he opened his eyes, he could see a lot more. No Mujar is
born imperfect, nor can we be blinded.”

“
Oh.” Her gaze darted between the two, who stood several feet
apart and showed no inclination to close the gap. Her curiosity
about Law’s blindness was overtaken by a far greater one, and her
eyes settled on Chanter. “You promised to show me why Mujar don’t
touch.”

He looked baffled by her sudden change of topic; perhaps
curious himself about Law’s refusal to open his eyes, but nodded
and turned to the youth. “Law, Talsy wishes to see a demonstration
of
tallana
.”

Law tilted his
head and smiled. “Very well.”

Chanter
stepped forward. Instantly a wall of brilliant blue light sprang up
between the two Mujar, a scintillating barrier that edged a radiant
nimbus around each of them. The rainbow corona clothed them from
head to foot, and blue sparkles fenced the area where the two auras
touched. Talsy reached for the faint nimbus of pearly light that
surrounded Chanter, her hand passing through it without sensation.
Chanter stepped back, and the halos vanished.

“
What was that?” she asked.

“
Tallana
. All Mujar are surrounded by
it, but Lowmen can’t see it unless the proximity of another Mujar
activates it.”

“
But you can see it?”

“
Yes.”

“
But what is it? Does it burn you? Can’t you ever touch each
other?”

Law smiled
again. “She has many questions, Father.”

“
All her questions will be answered,” Chanter said. “She is the
First Chosen, blessed of the gods.”

Law bowed to
Talsy, his grin vanishing. “Forgive me, chosen one, I did not see
the mark.”

“
Open your eyes,” Chanter suggested.

“
I wish I could.”

“
Chanter!” Talsy hopped with impatience. “Tell me about
tallana
!”

He scowled at
Law, apparently annoyed with the youth. “It surrounds every living
thing, but to a much lesser extent. I don’t know what Lowmen call
it, if anything, for they never see it, except when two Mujar come
too close to each other, but this only happens by accident. It
burns if we get very close, almost touching, but we can touch.”

“
How? Show me.”

Chanter turned
to Law and made a simple gesture. The young Mujar mirrored the
cryptic signal, and Chanter closed the gap between them, lifted his
hands and held them out, crossed at the wrists. Law mirrored his
movements, and the two clasped hands, a faint flash of blue fire
igniting as their palms touched briefly.

Chanter stepped back. “Mujar can soften their
tallana
at will, allowing
another to touch them, but mostly we like to keep our
distance.”

“
Do you soften your
tallana
every time Truemen come close to you?”

“
No, Truemen don’t feel it at all, otherwise we would use it to
defend ourselves. Only another Mujar can see and feel
tallana
.”

Talsy gazed at the two, so alike, yet so different. Law was
slightly smaller than Chanter, his skin a fraction paler, his
features more feminine. Remembering the reason for asking
about
tallana
,
Talsy asked, “So why can’t you soften your
tallana
around Travain?”

“
I can, but he doesn’t seem able to. He certainly never has.
When he was a child he could not control it. Even a pure Mujar
doesn’t learn to control his
tallana
until he has his mark. When I
touched Travain after he got his mark, his
tallana
burnt me, causing the red
marks you saw on my arms. It’s unpleasant to be burnt like
that.”

“
You should have told him,” she said.

“
He should know.”

“
I don’t think he does, otherwise he wouldn’t blame you for
staying away from him. Unlike a true Mujar, he has to learn about
these things. You can’t just expect him to know them.”

“
Perhaps not,” Chanter agreed, inclining his head. “But just as
you don’t know everything about Mujar, I was not aware that he
needed guidance.”

“
Nor would you have given it to him without a Wish,” she
pointed out.

“
His Mujar heritage does entitle him to some small gifts from
his elders, had he asked.”

“
That’s not what you said before. You said he had no
Wish.”

“
That’s true; he didn’t have a Wish to grant him large favours,
which you claimed he needed.” Chanter made an irritated gesture,
glancing at Law, who stood blandly listening, his face
expressionless. “It’s difficult to decide what he’s entitled to,
for a Trueman must earn a Wish, yet a Mujar has only to ask, though
it’s seldom they have questions. What is he, Mujar or
Trueman?”

“
Both.” Talsy frowned, seeing Chanter’s dilemma. “I don’t know.
Perhaps he’s Trueman with Mujar powers.”

“
Yet he has
tallana
, which is Mujar, and he can kill, which is forbidden to us.
Face it, he’s neither, and therefore the way I should treat him is
a mystery to all of us.”

Law touched
Chanter’s arm and spoke in a language that resembled deep-toned
bird calls and melodic lilting poetry. Talsy gaped at the
youngster, and Chanter snapped, “Speak Trueman.”

“
You have your own language!” she exclaimed.

“
Of course we do.” Chanter looked distinctly put out, scowling
at Law. “Do you think we’re born speaking Lowman?”

“
What did he say?”

“
He asked who Travain is. He was rude to speak so in front of
you.”

“
Oh.” She gazed at Law with renewed fascination, stunned by the
depth of her ignorance. “I’d like to learn to speak
Mujar.”

“
You can’t. Your vocal abilities will not allow it.” Chanter
continued to scowl at Law, who bowed his head under his elder’s
disapproval. “This one is too young to be with people, he has not
yet remembered the ways of our race.”

Law made a
graceful gesture. “Guidance, Father.”

Chanter
nodded. “You need it.”

“
Why does he keep calling you ‘Father’, is he your son?” Talsy
asked.

“
No, it’s a term of respect. I’m more than twenty years older
than him, so he calls me Father. If I was more than forty years
older, he would call me Great Father, and more than sixty years, he
would call me Wise Father. A Mujar eighty years his senior would be
Venerable Father. All elders are accorded this, since we have no
way of knowing our own offspring.”

Silence fell
as Talsy ran out of questions, her mind whirling as she tried to
assimilate this glut of new information, and Law shuffled his feet
in the hush. Chanter folded his arms and waited, watching the
expressions chase each other over her face. She was sure he knew
the reason for her silence, while Law, unable to see her
fascination, clearly found the quiet confusing. Realising that the
youngster must be hungry, she shook herself from her musings and
offered him comforts. The youth accepted, and she led him towards
the castle, taking Chanter’s hand to ensure he could not slip away.
Law walked slowly, his head bent, and she was forced to wait for
him, her initial eager march becoming a leisurely stroll.

When they
arrived, Sheera was only too delighted to dish up a bowl of hot
stew for Law, thrusting one under Chanter’s nose as well. Law
consumed two plates of food at high speed, then slowed on the
third, while Chanter made do with one. While they ate, Kieran
entered and stopped in surprise. Law raised his head and turned it
in the Prince’s direction, then returned to his food. Talsy drew
Kieran aside and explained the events at the lake, and Chanter
disappeared while she was distracted, to her annoyance.