Broken World Book Two - StarSword (7 page)

Talsy tossed
and turned, keeping him awake. She moaned and tried to push him
away, whispered Chanter's name in beseeching tones and muttered too
softly for him to make out the words. After a while, she settled
down, and he was able to catch a few hours of sleep.

Talsy woke him
when she climbed off the bed. She went to stand in the tiny patch
of golden warmth that crept across the floor, and he watched her
warily. Holding her hands in it, she weaved her fingers, as if
playing with the golden beams, and he wondered if she had lost her
reason.

"This is
Crayash, the Power of Fire," she said.

He nodded.
"So?"

"Chanter told
me what to do."

"When?"

"In my dreams,
last night." She smiled.

Kieran sighed.
"It was just a dream."

"The souls will
help me now. I'm Mujar marked. Dargon and Kuran are banished by the
earth blood and the souls of fire don't dwell nearby."

He rose and
stretched. "You're talking crazy, you know that?"

"No I'm not,"
she retorted. "I'm going to call the wind."

"That's all we
need, a cold draught."

"The souls of
the wind are called Shanar. Come to me, Shanar, I need you."

"You're nuts."
Kieran sat down on the bed again. "What good will that do?"

"Don't
underestimate the Power of Ashmar. It can do more than you
know."

He gestured to
the door. "How will it get us out of here?"

"I don't know.
Why don't you wait and see?"

Kieran leant
back against the wall and folded his arms, gazing at her with
mocking eyes.

Talsy was
certain that what Chanter had told her in the dream was real. It
had been as vivid as the ones that had driven her from Rashkar
before it fell. Now that she had the Mujar mark, she sensed his
guidance more strongly, and his teachings echoed in her mind.
Ashmar was the weakest of the four Powers. She had seen him use it
only to change form and drive the ship. The wind could flatten a
town such as this, however, and even Truemen's stoutest
constructions would not withstand a hurricane's fury. Kieran had
lost interest, and gazed at the tramping feet and rattling wheels
that passed outside the window.

Talsy sensed
the first whisper of wind and turned to face the window through
which it blew, cool and fresh as a mountain breeze. It carried the
scent of pine trees and windswept crags, a gentle, indescribable
smell of wild open spaces, clouds and rain. Its silken currents
held scents of hot rock and brine, even the golden smell of
sunlight fresh from the high ethers. A soft presence, made of
stirring air and mingled aromas, replaced the stagnant air in the
stuffy cell. Shanar were invisible, they could be sensed only
through touch and smell, and she closed her eyes to better know the
strange entity that had entered her prison. The Shanar playfully
lifted her hair and caressed her cold skin with warm breaths that
sent shivers through her. It filled her lungs with freshness
untainted by the city's smoke and dust.

Chapter Four

Kieran
straightened with an oath, sniffing the cool breeze. Talsy smiled
as she opened her eyes. The wind rustled around the room, filled
its cramped confines with memories of the open spaces through which
it usually frolicked and brought its wildness into the ugly little
space. Like a trapped wild creature, it moved around restlessly,
caressing them with gentle zephyrs of scented air. Though Ashmar
was the least powerful, Talsy sensed that it was the wildest of the
four powers, formless and unfettered. Like the Mujar who sometimes
rode it in bird form, the wind knew no master and bowed to no
bondage, yet it was here at her behest, answering her call. The
gravity of it awed her, and the presence of the untamed soul she
had summoned filled her with deep gratitude and wonder.

"Shanar," she
murmured.

The wind's
voice whispered in a soft melody, a sound as still as the deepest
silence. "Friend of Life, know me."

Remembering the
souls' odd speech, which was sometimes unintelligible, Talsy
struggled to understand the simple words. "I know you."

"Do you?" A
whispered chuckle. "Who am I?"

"Shanar, the
wind."

"Life has
blessed you, yet you do not know me."

Talsy fought
off panic. What if she said the wrong thing? Desperate to please,
she said, "Teach me."

"Ah, better,
humble one. I am Shyass, wind of the mountains. Know me now?"

"Shyass, wind
of the mountains," she repeated.

The wind
chuckled, ruffling her hair with a playful gust. She realised that
the wind soul was a playful being, and probably teased her, as
winds were apt to do when people tried to make use of them.

"Help me," she
pleaded.

"Why else am I
here?" the wind whispered. "Why else would you call? Why else would
I answer, blessed of Life? What need have you of me?"

"I need to be
free."

"So, this I
understand. None should be tamed or caged. I enjoy the playfulness
of men, who stretch cloth before me and bid me serve them."

"I ask a
favour, nothing more," Talsy assured it.

The wind
chuckled again. "I do not mock you, humble one. I grant your
favour, but how would you?"

"How would I
what?"

A breeze sighed
in her ear, tickled her and raised her nape hair with fingers of
cold air. "Be free."

Talsy pointed.
"The door."

"Ah, open, yes.
Free the wind, blow the door, crush the men."

"No harm."

"Harm, say you?
You are not me, blessed of Life. Find you a corner, be very still.
I shall quit this place, the door I shall kill."

Talsy
understood the warning, if little else, and walked over to Kieran.
"Come, we must sit in the corner, out of harm's way."

The warrior
gazed at her with deep doubt. "What have you done?"

"The wind's
going to blow down the door."

"Oh great. And
what about us? That's a damned spirit you're dealing with. It
doesn't know about flesh and blood."

The wind
whispered, "Fear not, friend of forests, Shyass has touched the
skins of men aeons gone. Flesh is known to me."

"Did you hear
that?" Talsy asked Kieran.

"All I can hear
is a sort of rustling."

"Well, don't
worry, she knows about flesh. We must sit in a corner."

"I don't know
that this is such a good idea."

"Just do it,
okay?" Talsy gripped his arm and dragged him from the bunk. "You
want to get out of here, and I've summoned the wind to help us. The
least you can do is show a little appreciation. Not everyone can do
this, you know."

The wind
chuckled, tickling her cheek. "Friend are you, foolish one, fear of
me is good."

Talsy ignored
the teasing and pushed Kieran into a corner. He sat on the floor,
and she joined him.

The wind rose
to swirl around the room, gathering speed as the temperature
dropped. The air seemed to swell, pressing against her eardrums
until she held her nose to pop them. Still the wind gathered speed,
spinning faster and faster, drawing more of itself into the room
and filling it with whipping wildness. Dust leapt off the floor in
little spirals, and the wind burnt her eyes, forcing her to squint.
She turned her head away and gasped as she found nothing to breathe
in her lee, forced to turn back and inhale the rushing air. A soft
moaning whistled along the walls and rose to a howl as its force
increased. The wooden bunk flew across the room and smashed against
the far wall, and the splinters joined the swirling madness, flying
around the room.

Talsy ducked
her head and clasped her hands over it, wondering if Kieran was
right after all. He pressed her back into the corner behind him,
holding her to him with one arm. The wind tugged at her clothes,
yet not that strongly, and none of the wooden shards came near
them. A minor tornado filled the room now, made visible by the dust
and debris that spun in its vortex, a thing of amazing beauty,
deadly and wild, swaying as it danced in the centre of the floor.
The howling rose to fluting notes and a faint scream of power. The
wind that pressed them back into the corner was hard in its
savagery, yet gentle in its care. Talsy shivered, for it was as icy
as the mountain snow whence she had summoned it, and streaks of
frost formed on the walls.

The wind
changed, and she gasped as the air was sucked from her lungs. The
tornado rushed at the door with all its spinning fury, in a
movement too fast for the eye to follow and too sudden for the mind
to perceive. The force of the blast smashed the door down, and a
million splinters flew outward as the wind rushed through it,
carrying the debris with it. A gale howled through the room,
channelled by the window in a high-pitched scream. Talsy cowered
back, awed by the wind's massive power and wild intensity, the
unbridled fury with which it quit the room. Yet it had not, for it
sang now in a voice of sweet melody, given it by its passage.

"How now,
blessed of Life? You are as free as I."

"Thank you,"
Talsy gasped.

The wind
laughed in trills of breathy little shrieks. "Joy is mine, small
one. Good play was this, invite me again."

"I will," Talsy
promised, amazed to find that she had made a new friend. Reaching
out, she held her hand in the rushing air that howled through the
room like an invisible river. It pushed against her palm, as if
clasping her hand in a cold caress that held the frosty entity's
muted power, a mountain blizzard, wild and free. The pressure
against her hand died as the wind howled away through the prison's
corridors, flying back to its mountain. The beauty of it mesmerised
Talsy, and Kieran hauled her to her feet, dragging her from the
cell.

"Come on! Let's
get out of here while we can."

Kieran towed
her through deserted, windswept corridors. Streaks of frost on the
walls, and comatose guardsmen stretched out on the floor, marked
Shyass' passing. Two more doors had succumbed to her fury, leaving
a clear path to the outside world. A gawping crowd had gathered
around the fallen doors, which had been blown off their hinges and
flung far down the street. Kieran and Talsy ducked into the throng,
losing themselves in the crush. With luck, hours would pass before
anyone realised that two prisoners were missing, Talsy mused. Now
they had to find their way back to Shern's dwelling to carry out
their mission.

Finding the
house again took the better part of an hour, but when they did,
Talsy was pleased to find Shern at home, packing his belongings.
His surprise at the sight of them was comical, and his delight
unfeigned. He told them that the city's chosen were already at work
gathering a bribe to free them, and would have arrived at the
prison later that day. Their escape had saved several hours and a
risk of failure, however. He went outside to send a street urchin
running to tell the others the good news, and with instructions to
purchase a wagon and horses instead. Returning, he brewed a pot of
tea and asked the question he had doubtless been itching to air
ever since their arrival.

"How did you
escape?"

"Talsy summoned
the wind," Kieran said.

"The wind?"
Shern hid his surprise well. "How did you do that?"

"The Mujar mark
makes it possible for me to ask aid from the souls of this world,"
she explained, preening just a little.

"Indeed, and
doubtless we will need all the help we can get." Shern poured
steaming tea. "You realise that those I've told are but a fraction
of the chosen in the city. The majority are chained to the wheel,
slaves of the lords in this town. Do you know how we will free
them?"

Talsy shook her
head. "The Mujar said that we would have to free the chosen here.
He must have a plan."

"I hope so."
The seer sipped his tea. "It would be a shame to leave so many
behind."

"How many are
with us now?"

"Only a dozen
or so. Another forty are in chains."

Talsy nodded.
"We'll save as many as we can, and, if it comes to choosing, take
the youngest."

"How much time
do we have?"

"A couple of
days, I think."

By the time
they finished the tea and some delicious cakes, the urchin had
returned with a plump man with a round face and merry brown eyes.
He was an innkeeper, and looked sad, for his wife of twenty years
was unchosen, Shern told them. He shook their hands and forced a
smile, though his eyes gleamed with moisture and he rubbed his nose
often. His message was a welcome one.

"The chosen are
on the move. Most have walked out of the city to avoid suspicion,
and will mount the wagon there. It would look odd if a motley
collection of traders, farmers and innkeepers elected to go for a
joy ride with the seer and two strangers. Risnar has his own horse
and has ridden out. The wagon is on its way here."

Having
delivered his message, the innkeeper reverted to his gloomy
introspection. Shern plied him with tea and cakes until the wagon
arrived, driven by a mild-faced man and his plump wife, three small
children tumbling in the back amid sacks of food and camping
equipment. The wagon rattled through the streets to the gates,
drawn by a pair of tired looking horses.

Talsy was
surprised when a stern-faced guard stopped them at the gates and
regarded the wagon with deep suspicion.

"Off somewhere,
Derrin?" he asked the farmer.

Derrin beamed.
"Indeed I am. To Lassor, to sell my surplus."

"Uhuh. And you,
seer?"

Shern shrugged.
"Along for the ride. It's been ages since I got out of this
stinking town."

The soldier
scowled at Kieran. "How about you, stranger? Hitching a lift, I
suppose?"