Broken World Book Three - A Land Without Law (13 page)

Sliding off
her horse, Talsy stood in the soft sand that bordered the
Whispering Sea. The wind lifted her hair off her neck, pushed and
tugged at her with cool, playful fingers. To her right, the mighty
river they had followed met the ocean in a roiling tumult of
warring water, pushing back the waves in foaming defeat. Beyond it,
a great city hid behind the haze of spray, too distant to make out
any more than its shape and size. Tiny ships plied the waves before
it, sails pale in the sun. Behind her, the rolling grassy dunes
stretched back to the distant forests they had left behind two days
ago. The river had brought verdure with it in the form of a tangled
jungle of strange trees that grew on tall roots, festooned with
vines. They thrived in the marshy silt laid down over the
centuries.

The horses,
relieved of their burdens, galloped back into the dunes to graze on
the hardy grass, and their riders set up camp on the jungle's
border. Already the Aggapae pitched tents to create a tiny village
where they would live while Chanter was away. Talsy dreaded his
leaving and the loneliness she would suffer in his absence. She had
brought him on this quest, however, and only he could search the
sea for the fragment of the Staff of Law. She wondered again why
coming here had been his first choice. Picking up her bags, she
trudged through the sand to join the work, helping where she
could.

By the time
the camp was finished, sand clung to her sweaty skin and she longed
to bathe. Chanter, who had paced the beach since their arrival,
returned to inspect the camp and nod his approval before turning to
her. "I must go."

A huge lump
blocked her throat, but she nodded.

He glanced at
Kieran and the Aggapae. "Guard the First Chosen well."

The Aggapae
bowed, and Kieran inclined his head, smiling.

Chanter walked
down the beach, and she clung to his arm until he reached the
water, where he stopped and pried her hand free.

"You can't
come with me, my little clan."

"How long will
you be gone?" she asked, desperate for some limit to her loss and
suffering.

"I don't
know."

"Don't stay
away too long, please."

He cupped her
cheek with his left hand. "When I was cast into the sea bound in
gold, you lost hope because you thought I would not return. But
this time I'm coming back. With or without the stone, I'll return
to you. Remember that, every day. Nothing on this world can stop
me, and nothing out there will harm me."

She gazed into
his eyes, knowing that he would, yet still torn by his leaving.
"Two moons. Come back after two moons, whether you find it or
not."

"All right, I
will."

She flung her
arms around his neck. "Find it as quickly as you can."

"I
promise."

"Don't turn
into a turtle and spend all day floating in the sun."

He chuckled.
"I won't."

Mustering her
resolve, she released him and stepped back. The wind whipped her
hair into her eyes, and she brushed it away. He smiled at her, then
turned to stare out to sea, his nostrils flaring with the wild
yearning that lived in every Mujar's heart. Even before he walked
away, she lost his wild heart to the untamed world of sea, sky and
wind. She thought he would leave without so much as a backward
glance, so strongly did the wild call, but then he turned and
raised an arm. Her heart sang with joy at this simple gesture, a
sign that he could turn from the wild even when it beckoned so
powerfully.

Chanter dived
into the sea, and a sleek grey shape clove the waves, the tip of
one fin missing. The dolphin powered away with swift strokes of its
flukes, surfacing to puff spray before diving under the wild blue
water. Talsy sank to her knees, and the sea lapped at her, calling
her into its cold embrace. It dared her to follow him into his
world, where she could not survive. Alone on the windy shore, she
cursed the world that took him from her. Chill crept into her
bones, and the ocean's vastness mocked her. It dwarfed her with its
majesty and beauty, the power and freedom she could never hope to
taste in the way a Mujar could. What hope had a Lowman girl to win
the heart of a Mujar from the elements that were his home?

Warm hands on
her shoulders made her jump, and she turned. Kieran tried to put a
blanket around her. "Come away now or you'll freeze, silly girl."
He urged her to her feet.

Talsy tried to
shrug him off, but he persisted until he succeeded in getting the
blanket around her. She glared at him, and he grinned, kneeling
beside her to hold the blanket against the wind's tugging.

"Not talking,
eh? Well, that makes a pleasant change."

"Go away."

"Ah, that
didn't last long. You can't sit here until he comes back, the
tide's coming in. He told me to look after you, and that's what I'm
doing."

"He told you
to guard me," she retorted, "not order me around."

"Well I reckon
guarding you includes not letting you get washed away by the
tide."

Talsy's
defiance crumbled, and she turned to bury her face in his chest,
clinging to his cold, metal-studded armour.

"I miss him
already," she mumbled.

Kieran's heart
ached as he stared at the rolling ocean, whose cold waves lapped
his knees and spray settled over them in a soft mist. He wished
that she would turn to him for more than a moment's comfort, but
that wish was unlikely to come true. Her heart belonged to the
Mujar, and all he could do was share in her suffering.

He murmured,
"I'll always be here."

Sweeping her
up off the wet sand, he carried her back to the camp.

Chanter swam
through the shafts of sunlight that probed the ocean with long
fingers of radiance, swallowed far below by the darkness of the
depths. The surge of passing swells rocked him in this vast watery
cradle, and shoals of silver fish darted from the murk before him
and vanished behind him as he swam. The distant song of whales
echoed through the brine, bringing with it images of giant shadowy
creatures wallowing amongst the waves. He powered for the surface,
broke through into sunlight with a shower of spray and flew before
plunging back into the water in a welter of foam. Diving again, he
revelled in the water's caress against his sleek form, unbalanced
only slightly by the missing fin tip, which already the sea's power
had set about restoring. Layers of warm and cold passed him and
currents tugged at him, pulled him sideways and down, slowed his
progress, then speeded it.

For two days,
he had searched without pause, questing through the sun-dappled sea
for a tiny fragment of cold stone no different from the rest of the
ocean floor. The few sea spirits he had encountered had been unable
to help, and the silver sea men were equally ignorant, although
they had promised to search. The dolphins had begged him to join
their play, but nothing could turn him from his purpose, and their
sadness had followed him long after he had left them behind.

A change in
the song of the sea made him pause as a tale of woe joined the
silvery web of endless melody, telling of death and pain. Turning
towards its source, he followed the thread of sorrowful verse. The
dark and mournful chant corrupted the brightness and joy of the
sea's celebration of Life with its anguish. Diving into the depth's
black stillness, he tasted Dolana's taint amid the dancers of
light. Drawn by the call of pain, he shot through the brine, flukes
lashing. The Earthpower below grew stronger, draining his energy
with its powerful chill, telling of something amiss in the world of
the sea.

Chanter found
a gaping chasm torn in the sea bed, inflicted by the weakening of
the Dolana that held the bedrock together. The chilling Earthpower
slowed him. It welled up from the earth's hot bowels, released by
the weakening of the bonds that had held it below. Earth blood
oozed from the chasm, forming giant globules that broke away and
floated upwards. They spread across the foaming waves and quelled
their wild racing with a blanket of sluggish blackness. Fish caught
in the rising oil died as their gills were clogged with it,
suffocating within their watery domain. The spreading blackness cut
off the shafts of brilliance that probed the depths, throwing an
immense pall that starved a million tiny creatures of vital light.
The poisons released into the water killed a billion more, and
currents carried it far and wide, spreading the death and
suffering.

The Mujar
dived down to the chasm, changing his form to a man to stand beside
the wound. In the icy darkness with its tiny dancing lights, he
used the wild Earthpower to heal the terrible rent. Drawing back
together the parted sheets of rock, he twisted them into each other
to bind the injury shut. The ground shivered as the wound healed,
and a deep growl rumbled through the sea. Chanter rose to the
surface, taking on the sleek grey shape again to burst from the
waves in a glad leap. The great oil slick drifted away, borne by
winds and currents that would carry it to land.

Chanter set
off on his search once again, satisfied that no more earth blood
would leak from the wound to poison the world.

Kieran gazed
at the distant, forlorn figure of the girl who stood staring out to
sea. For a month, Talsy had endured Chanter's absence stoically,
trying to hide her misery behind a facade of silence. For the most
part, he had left her alone, unwilling to intrude on her
unhappiness. Life in the camp had settled to a steady rhythm
disturbed only by the weather and occasional small discoveries.
Like the nest of eggs he had found and watched for a week,
wondering what would emerge. The deformed young that had stumbled
from it in utter confusion had shocked him, a mixture of bird and
lizard unsure of whether to spread their tiny wings or run under
the nearest rock. He had put an end to their misery with swift
strokes of his knife, and buried the pathetic remains so Talsy
would not find them. He had told Brin about it, but not the
girl.

Brin joined
him, shaking his head at the vigilant girl at her windy post.
"She's miserable without him."

Kieran nodded.
"It's sad."

"Sadder for
you."

He sighed.
"How can I compete with a man like him?"

"He's not a
man." Brin squatted beside him. "He's Mujar. He may look like a
man, but he's a creature of this world, and what she has is more
like obsession than love."

"You seem to
know a lot about it, considering your people didn't even recognise
him when you saw him."

Brin shrugged.
"We have our legends. The reason Jesher didn't believe he's Mujar
was because of the missing hand."

"He lost it
when the staff was broken."

"Mujar don't
keep handicaps like that. They grow new limbs, just like a tree
when you cut a branch."

Kieran stared
at the Aggapae. "Then why...?"

"I don't know.
They must go to the sea to heal such a great loss. Perhaps he had
no time."

"No, he took
us to the valley. So that's why he chose to come here first."

Brin sifted
sand through his fingers. "When he returns, he'll be whole
again."

"Talsy will be
happy." The Prince gazed at the distant figure.

Brin rose and
clapped him on the back. "Come, let's eat."

On the vast
golden plains of an abandoned continent, a giant, withered flower
drooped under the hot sun. Within the cool shelter of his pod, the
Mujar child kicked, fighting the creeping lethargy that stemmed
from a lack of energy imparted by the plant. Not yet fully formed
after eighteen months, the young Mujar stood on the brink of
awareness and independence, but as yet had not crossed the line.
The plant's dying leaves soaked up sunlight, but the vast mat had
dwindled to a small portion of its original size, starved of water
by the world's corruption. No rains had fallen on the plains for
almost a year, and the only thing left alive was the hardy Ishmak
plant. As its supply of moisture had soaked away into the ground
the plant had sent urgent roots down in search of more, following
trails of dampness that ended in rocky strata.

Its outer
leaves had started to curl and blacken two months before, crumbling
as they dried. Now the few that remained struggled to support the
fleshy flower and its precious, fragile occupant. The outer petals
were dry and hard, their moisture drawn back into the plant to keep
it alive. The flower's vivid colours had faded to a uniform pale
brown, and the towering stamen had crumbled away, leaving a stump
protruding from the top of the folded flower. The drying process
was normal, but it was six months too early. The Ishmak's seeds
were fully formed, nestled in their bed of white hair. The creature
meant to carry them far into the world was not ready to emerge,
however.

The Mujar
child kicked again, and his foot hit pod's the hard side and sent a
shaft of pain through him. For a moment he lay still, stunned by
this new sensation. The golden light that filled his mind swirled
and whispered, seeking release from the prison of his skull. He
kept his eyes closed, denying it the freedom it craved. The light
burnt against his lids, rebounding back into his brain's recess.
The umbilical pulsed as the flower fed him what little energy it
had, sacrificing itself to nurture this creature without whom its
seeds would rot within its decaying shell. The child curled his
limbs and slumbered, floating in his pod's precious water.

Not far from
the dying plains, a colony of semi-ants filled a valley with a
gigantic nest that spanned it from ridge to ridge. Months ago, a
tiny queen on her maiden flight had mated with a creature of this
world, equally small and even more harmless than the ant queen. The
creatures that had hatched from the queen's eggs had resembled
neither animal, however, and grew to a massive size compared to
their parents. The breeding of two alien species had spawned
monsters unrivalled in survival and defence. They had developed a
poison twenty times more virulent than the ants’ and an ability to
live on sunlight if necessary.