

A Strange Song of Madness
Part 1

Wil Clayton

Long Shadows on a Wide Plain series

Copyright 2015 Wil Clayton

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Chapter 1

The dead lands of Gart stretched out in all directions, only broken by a line of stoney crags that pushed their way up from the barren earth. There were no animals on the ground nor birds in the sky, there was nothing except the large lake that had sat amongst the rocks and dirt that was the kingdom.

At the edge of the lake stood Shaol, ankle deep in mud, four leather sacks hug from the yoke that had sat on his shoulders. Yellow and brown reeds grew at the edge of the lake, but only to the hip. The ones that had tried to grow any taller had started to curl and blacken as they became victim to the poison that choked the land.

Carefully, Shaol lowered himself and filled the sacks with the safe water of the lake, he then rose and walked across the pebbled shore to the line of metal tanks that waited at the top of the slope that led down into the lake.

Two kids who stood on ladders next to the tanks helped Shaol unload the water from the sacks into the large container and then he returned back to the lakeside. The silhouettes of a few dozen men dotted the calm water of the lake made golden by the dawning light. They were halfway through their daily task of drawing the water for the city.

Shaol's back ached, as it had started to do in the last few weeks. He had collected water every day since his muscles were strong enough to bear the yoke and now, after so many years of the labour, his bones and muscles were starting to rebel against the task. Shaol gritted his teeth, lowered his head and pushed through the pain.

The sacks only held half of what they should have held when Shaol returned to the caravan, the kids by the tank noticed as they heaved the sack over the wall of tank but said nothing and Shaol returned to the lake.

"Good morning," came the voice of Shaol's friend who lived in the lake, "you're moving slowly again."

"Hello, Friend," replied Shaol as he filled the last of the sack with some water, "it's nothing."

"The sacks are not full, does your back still pain you?"

Shaol ignored the question and returned to the line of tanks. The yoke swung as the kids lifted the sack, Shaol held himself stiff and steadied the wide, metal beam, as he did the muscle in his lower back moved and twitched beneath the skin. An sudden, accidental grunt betrayed the pain.

"Are you alright?" asked the boy named Cutter.

"Yes," said Shaol.

Cutter looked around.

"Just bring back enough to make a splash," whispered Cutter, "we won't tell anyone."

Shaol looked at Cutter and then at Rag, the other boy. They both nodded, a concerned look crossed their faces.

"They're good kids," said the voice as Shaol reentered the waters.

"They are," said Shaol simply.

"Have you thought on the task?"

Shaol shook his head.

"I have enjoyed our time," said Shaol, "and you've been a good friend to me all these years, but I don't need your help."

"But I need your help," said the voice, "as do the boys. You know when they discover you can only take drops from the lake, it will be the knife."

"It was always going to be that way."

"There is more to do, Shaol."

"I know what waits me, I don't fear it."

"And who will watch over the boys when you are gone?"

"There'll be another."

"There is no one else like you."

Shaol trudged from the lake and started up the slope. Cutter was busying helping another empty sacks into the tank, Shaol slowed his pace, keeping his distance from the Old One. Cutter and Rag finished and the grim face of the Old One turned back towards the lake. Shaol quickened his pace as the other noticed him for a moment. Shaol passed silently and the Old One ignored him.

Shaol returned to the lake.

"Did the fruits turn brown, yet?"

"Not yet," replied Shaol, "they're still green."

"They are late this year," said the voice.

"But the flowers of the middle tree are blue now."

"Good, the spring is passing us now."

"Again."

"As will next one."

"Have you discovered why they grow when nothing else does?"

"Who could know such things, I believe they grow simply so we have something to talk about each day."

"I don't think that's why they grow," laughed Shaol, "you should be out studying them, Friend, rather then wasting your days with me."

"You're very special to me, Shaol, and I'll be heartbroken when you no longer come to visit."

Shaol smiled to himself and a warmth filled him, no one else had the kind words foe him like Friend. He returned to the caravan, unloaded the small amount of water he could carry and then went back to the lake.

As Shaol stepped back through the water his foot put his weight on a loose, flat stone. It slipped from underneath him, his body jolted as it tried to keep itself level, the yoke swung and jerked wildly and a fire shot up through his back. Shaol's legs buckled and he fell sideways into the lake, the water betraying everything that had happened. Shaol tried to push himself up, but his back refused and he fell back into the water, the yoke fell from his shoulders and sank into the mud.

"You must listen to me, Shaol," whispered Friend.

"What's happening?" came the hard voice of Master from the shore.

Shaol lay still and listened to the boots crunch as they stomped across the stone and grit of the shore.

"Get up," shouted Master, now closer.

Shaol turned his head and saw the grey, round, flat face of Master. His body large and muscular, dressed in a simple tunic and leather pants. A simple sword hung from his belt.

"Why don't you get up?"

"The back," said Shaol through gritted teeth.

"Boy," called Master and Cutter came running, "how many sacks today?"

"As many as the others, sir," lied Cutter.

Master stopped and looked at Shaol for a moment.

"I'll give you a chewing root and the day," said Master, "if you ain't ready for tomorrow, you're done."

Shaol lay quietly in the water as Master continued to looked down on him.

"Boy, get the root."

Shaol was lucky and he knew it, his Master had always been kinder than the others. The water caravan aged the Under faster than the other jobs in the city and it took a more forgiving Master to run it.

The dark shadow of Master left and Shaol heard the boots walk away.

Shortly after, Cutter was kneeling next to Shaol with the chewing root. Shaol placed root in his mouth and began to grind the stringy flesh between his teeth as he did his mouth began to burn and his teeth became numb.

"You've got to be ready for tomorrow, Shaol," whispered Cutter.

The boy splashed out of the and Shaol sighed to himself, slowly a prickling sensation run across his skin and it became light. The world started to blur.

Who would protect the kids when he was gone?

In the night when the Masters returned to the inner city, the Old Ones would be left unwatched. The sourness that had built in them over the years would surge forward and the kids would be the focus of the wrath. Beaten in ways that left no marks by the ruthless beasts, if there was no one to keep them back.

Shaol had been on the caravan longer than any other and over the countless years he had seen all the things the Old Ones could be and it sickened him which was why he had refused to let himself become sour like them. He had always been their to protect the weaker ones of the caravan from those that had given in to the poison thoughts that ate the mind and left nothing.

Though, now, as his body became tired and old, he had become slower in that fight and the Old Ones had started to get the upper hand on him. It was three weeks ago when one had whipped him across the face with a reed from the lake and then landed a kick to the back, but when the pain had first started. The kids had slept safe for the night and that was what mattered. When the guards had seen the red mark left by the reed, the Old One had been taken away and lashed for it.

"Maybe a day's rest is all you need," said Friend from beneath the water, "but maybe it will not help. Then, tomorrow you will wake and your back will refuse to lift."

"Then, that's tomorrow," said Shaol, "I don't control that."

"Take me to the city, Shaol. There are still things that need to be done."

"I am an old man."

"Not yet."

Shaol fell quiet, he did not want to talk about it again, he let his body rock with the water.

"Where do the boys come from? The ones that help you with the water?"

"I don't know."

"Do they remember their homes?"

"Yes, the kids always do."

"I can take them home. I can give them new lives at the edge of the world, if they wish. I just need you to help me."

Shaol tried to ignore Friend but as his mind became empty the thoughts started to come to him. The kids would be safe away from the city, they had not turn soured yet and were young enough to remember themselves before they were the Under. For a moment, Shaol tried to remember when he had a home and a family, a mother and father, brothers and sisters. He had been only a boy when he was taken, so the memories were distant and foggy and meant nothing to him now. But home still meant something to Cutter and Rag.

"You can help them?" asked Shaol.

"I can, if you help me."

"With this treasure?"

"Yes, once I have it I can take the boys away. I can take you as well, Shaol."

"Where would I go?"

"Wherever you wished."

Shaol laughed as the root made a mirth erupt from inside him, but then he started to think on the task which Friend had first proposed to him when the trees had last started to flower, but Shaol had always refused. He had no need to leave his life, but the thought that he could help the kids one last time before he went to the butcher's made him think on it again.

"But I can't get into the fortress, Friend. I've never been past the inner wall."

"This is what must be done, I am asking you because I know you can do it."

"How?"

"I do not know, yet."

"I can't help you."

"You can, we will find a way, together."

"I have a day before the knife comes for me."

"Have you given up already?"

"No."

"Then, we have as much time as we need. We will find a way into the fortress."

"I'm not young, anymore, my body is broken."

"You are more capable than you know."

"This root has taken my mind," said Shaol, "I'm talking like a kid."

"It is what needs to be done, Shaol, and when it is the kids will be safe and you will no longer need to protect them."

"I'm headed for the butcher's hut."

"You are not there, yet."

"I may not find your treasure."

"Will you try?"

Shaol laughed again and then thought on it some more.

"Will you follow me back to the city?" said Shaol finally.

"You will carry me," said Friend, "I wait by the red stones on the shore, where I have always been."

"Wait until my body has returned, I'll find you then."

"Thank you, Shaol."

Shaol looked up into the empty, blue sky and the water lifted him. The concerns and the doubts of Friend's proposal danced in his mind, but he had nothing to lose with this deal. The knife already came for him, the kids were in danger once he was not there to watch them and he could do this one last thing for the friend who had been kind to him since he first came to the lake as a boy. Shaol knew he would not find a way into the fortress that lay in the heart of the city, but he perhaps another could and once Friend held her treasure she could save the kids.

The morning passed and Shaol's muscles regained their feeling, they were still tense and ached with a deep, permanent pain. He would not be able to lift the yoke tomorrow.

A pile of large, red rocks sat abandoned in pile a few feet away from the lakeside, even though Shaol had passed them everyday, he only truly noticed them in that moment. He looked around for Friend's familiar shape.

"Lift the rock," the voice of friend replied from somewhere not in the water.

The top stone shifted and underneath sat a thin, chain made of silver and attached to it was a simple, brown stone. Shaol took the chain, quickly, and gripped it in his fist.

"What is this?" asked Shaol.

"It is what I am."

"When you get your treasure, you will take the kids homes."

"Wherever they wish."

Shaol looked down at the leather pants, the only thing he wore, there were no pockets and he could not be seen with the chain.

"Rag," called Shaol to the boy by the tank, "milk."

Rag disappeared behind the tank and then reappeared with a leather bladder in his hands. The boy ran down the slope towards Shaol, an Old One watched the boy pass.

"Are you feeling better?" asked Rag as he passed Shaol the milk.

"Yes," replied Shaol with a smile, he always hated lying to the kids but it was a part of this life.

Rag smiled widely and scampered back up the slope, the Old One waiting by the tank watched the boy return.

The milk was warm and had started to turn, Shaol took a few mouthfuls and spat out the hard pieces that caught in his teeth. He brought his hand to the mouth of the bladder and slipped the chain inside and put the metal cap back on.

"We cannot speak while others are around," said Friend, "when you are in Tarlnath you must find a place away from anyone else."

The water tanks were full by midmorning and the water bearers gathered behind the caravan while the larger ones, who pulled the sleds, took up the the leather straps and began the long journey back to the city.

The day passed as it always did, at midday the water bearers were brought forward to pull the sled as the others rested. Shoal was excused from the task and continued to follow behind. After a short time, Master was suddenly beside him.

"You walk with a limp."

Shaol was quiet.

"I'll pick the butcher. He'll kill quick and clean, you don't have to worry about that."

Shaol looked at the ground and smiled to himself

"You know I've been good to you?"

"Yes, sir," said Shaol and he meant it.

Chapter 2

The colossal shape of Tarlnath loomed ahead of the caravan not a tower and not a mountain but something in between. The towers of the fortress soared high into the orange sky, casting a long shadow across the lifeless kingdom the city stood to protect.

Shaol had studied the five trees on the way back, out of habit. Friend always asked after the trees and Shaol enjoyed the task of relaying the slight differences, somehow the slow change of the trees brought him a comfort as the rest of his world remained frozen.

The large, iron gate that blocked the entrance to the city rose and the caravan moved underneath and down the main road to the water station. A dozen Unders flocked from the brick building and started to set up their ladders.

"To the barracks," shouted Master.

The large sledmen lumbered, tired and weary, to one set of barracks, the smaller water bearers headed to another.

Once inside the barracks, the younger water bearers snatched up scraps of fur from the ground, collapsed onto the dirt floor by a wall and put the skins over their heads. The Old Ones gathered in small groups and stared at the floor, some started to draw lazy spirals in the dirt. The kids gathered at the back of the long building, away from the others.

Some Unders hurried into the barracks with charred vermin on metal skewers, they handed them out to those that would take them, gathered the discard skewers from the night before and vanished out the main door.

The leather bladder of spoilt milk sloshed in Shaol's grip, he had carried it from the lake and some of the Old Ones had started to eye it with interest. He had to get rid of it before the meat gave them the strength to fight. The milk was spoilt and undrinkable but that did not matter to them.

Shaol went to the back of the barracks and out the door into the alley.

"What are you doing?" barked the voice of the Master posted to guard the door.

"I have to clean out the milk," replied Shaol presenting the bladder.

"Over there, I don't want it near me," said the guard pointing at the back of the tanners.

The milk splattered onto the already muddy ground, Shaol smelt nothing as the tubs of skins and green water in the yard had already taken his sense of smell. He knelt down and found the chain in the mud and curds.

"Find a place," whispered Friend from the roof.

Shaol looked up and saw the yellow eyes of Friend looking down from the roof, then they were gone. Shaol tucked the chain as best he could between his hip and leather pants. The chain dug into his bone as he limped back to barracks, careful to keep the chain in place.

"You don't look healthy," said the guard simply as Shaol shuffled past him.

Shaol entered the barracks. It was nothing but a long room with four brick walls. There was no other room where he could talk to Friend without being seen. Shaol knew he only had tonight to try to escape but there was little he could do inside the barracks. He found a place by from the young Unders that slept with the skins across their faces and watched the room, quiet except for the lower mutters from the groups that had formed.

Shaol looked up at the oil lanterns that burnt on the walls. Knocking a lantern onto the floor would make a distraction, giving him a chance to run, but if that happened every Under in the barracks would receive the whip for it. Worse would happen if he escaped, the others always paid when one was allowed to be disobedience. The others would hold him to the ground if they saw him try to run, they would save themselves from the pain, as they should. This was how the Masters kept control of their city and they had kept control as long as Shaol had known.

But there was a way Shaol could leave the barracks and no one would be hurt. The butcher was not near the barracks and between the butcher's hut and the barracks he could try to escape and if he did not find a way to escape he would find himself with a knife to his neck, an end he had always been prepared for.

Shaol lifted himself up and crossed the room to the main door and opened it.

"What?" asked the guard at the door.

"I'm hurt," said Shaol.

"Did someone hit you?"

"No."

The guard looked at him for a moment and nodded.

"Go back in."

Shaol closed the door and turned back into the barracks. He did not know how Master would respond, it was not for him to know.

The Old Ones started to laugh in the corner, the broken laughter always came before the rage. Shaol walked through the barracks to the back where Cutter, Rag and the others kids sat in a circle. On the way he found Tac amongst the sleeping bodies and nudge him with his foot.

"Rest by the kids," said Shaol quietly.

Tac lifted his head from the ground, nodded and pushed himself from the ground. He walked with Shaol to the back of the dorm where the kids spoke quietly about their new jobs.

"You're still limping," said Cutter looking up from the group.

"Tac'll watch you," said Shaol with a simple nod.

Tac dropped himself down next to the group

"You'll watch them right?" said Shaol urging Tac to speak to the kids.

"Uhm," said Tac with no energy, laid his head down and dropped the scrap of fur on his face.

"Do you remember where you're from?" asked Shaol.

"Yeah," said Cutter.

"Do you want to go back?"

Cutter just shrugged, it was more than Shaol would have given.

"Is there a way to get back to kennels?" asked Rag, "I don't want to be on the caravan."

"The Masters tell us what we do and we must do as they say," replied Shaol.

"The kennels are better," grumbled Rag.

Shaol knew the life on the caravan was harder than the other tasks in the city but there was nothing to be gain in letting the boys think on it.

"You work the caravan now and it's as good as any," said Shaol forcefully.

Rag looked down at the ground and muttered something to himself.

"Have any of you seen the fortress?" asked Shaol to the group.

"I've been up to the gate," said a boy, "I had to deliver a batch of skins to the fortress gate."

"What do they call you?"

"Redhands," the boy replied.

The boys were all given nicknames when they were brought to the city. Shaol had one once, but when as he became older he had out grown the name and so returned to the one he had been given by his family, though by then it had lost all of its original meaning.

"I grabbed a hot tub," said the boy with a laugh presenting his scarred hands.

Shaol look at the boy's hands, the boy would be under the knife faster with scars like that.

"What did you see through the gate?"

"You don't see nothing," said Redhands, "there's a tunnel. It goes so far you can't see the other end."

"Did you ever go in?" asked another boy.

"Nah, the guards won't even let you near the gate and the Unders from the fortress take the skins into the place."

"The black wall is the near the kennels," said Rag, "its huge. Someone fell from it, once, there wasn't anything left of him."

"Have any of you been inside?" asked Shaol.

The kids shook their heads as Shaol expected. Shaol nodded and went quiet. The kids started to talk quietly about the day, then about the others who had threatened them, then about the things they had done before they worked on the water caravan.

The kids started to grow tired and one by one they fell asleep. Shaol watched the room, he did not need to sleep. Across, near the main doors, a pair of Old Ones started to push each other. Suddenly, a guard appeared at the door and walked towards Shaol, the Old Ones sat and fell quiet.

"Come."

Shaol pulled himself from the wall, he felt the chain start to slip from his hip. He grabbed it and moved it back into place.

"You do look bad," grunted the guard.

Shaol kicked Tac as he passed, Tac rolled over and grumbled. Shaol followed the guard and from their corners, the Old Ones watched him leave.

The guard led Shaol from the barracks and up the main road, passing the plain, brick buildings of the outer city. For a moment, Shaol saw Friend's yellow eyes watching from the shadows of the alleys between the buildings and then the eyes vanished.

The inner wall was brightly lit by large braziers at the end of the road. For all his years in the city, Shaol had never passed through the gate into the city where the Masters slept. He was led under the arch, away from the brown and orange of his world and into the cold, grey of another.

The stone households crowded the street, iron beams held up tiled roofs. Lanterns sat on tall poles and lit the way up the large streets. The streets were not made of dirt like the ones Shaol knew but were instead sealed by smooth, grey stone.

The guard stopped at an iron door and knocked. An Under open the door without a word.

"I have brought him," said the guard, "where?"

"Around the back," replied the Under.

"Around the back," repeated the guard to Shaol.

Shaol obeyed and took a narrow alley to a small yard made of the space where four buildings came together. A small amount of light came through the windows that looked down on the space, making soft shadows in the corners.

The yellow eyes of Friend opened in one of the corners. In the shadow Shaol could make out the outline of the large wings that grew from her back.

"You are dead if you do not fight," she whispered.

Shaol shook his head, he would not let the windows see him speak.

A door open and light spilled into the yard. Master was in the doorway dressed only in his leather pants having left his boots and shirt inside the house. Friend was gone as Master stepped into the yard.

"Where does it hurt?" Master asked.

"The back and hip," replied Shaol.

"How long have you had it?"

"A month."

"Touch your feet."

Shaol bent to touch his feet, as he reached his knees his muscles screamed and he jumped from the pain. The chain came lose from his hip and it slipped down his leg. He felt the cold, metal hit his foot and then heard it hit the stone floor.

The yellow eyes burnt in the shadows behind Master.

"What is this?" asked Master an anger rising in voice.

"A chain and stone," replied Shaol.

"Where did you get it?"

"It was in the rock pile at the lake."

"Were you hiding this?"

"Yes."

"I was good to you," said Master angrily with a his voice low, "and now you are hiding things from me. Why?"

"I wanted you to have it, the other Masters would have taken it. It's was not for them," Shaol said and he meant ever word.

Friend would have her treasure, but Shaol knew he would not be the one to find it.

"You don't give me anything," spat Master.

Master walked forward and towered in front Shaol. He bent down and snatched the chain from the ground.

"I take what I want," said Master simply and turned his back to Shaol.

Friend was no longer in the shadows as Master inspect the stone and chain.

"Stay," said Master and return to the house.

"This will not work," whispered Friend from the shadows, "you must take me back."

Shaol shook his head.

"You don't understand, Shaol," said Friend her voice becoming urgent, "only you can bring me what I need."

Shaol looked at Friend and shook his head.

"The boys will stay where they are, if you don't. No one can leave the city unless you bring me what I need."

Shaol looked away from his friend and at the ground.

"I'll miss you," muttered Shaol, "when you hold your treasure, you will take them."

"I will wait for you, Shaol. The boys will also wait. Do not give up on us."

Friend was gone.

Master reappeared at the door now dressed in his leather shirt and boots.

"Come," he commanded and Shaol followed.

The pair wound their way through the twisted alleys of the city, these streets were not lit by street lanterns like the larger streets.

After a while, the pair came out onto a lit street and Master led the way down it to an iron door and knocked. The building in front of them went much higher than the ones that sat next to it, the windows on all of its floors where lit, from the inside, by strong lanterns, the light was made red, blue and green by the coloured glass of the panes that scattered the light onto the street and surrounding buildings.

The metal door thudded as a lock was turned and an Under opened the door.

"Get your Master, tell him Ragon's here for a trade," said Master.

The Under vanished leaving the door open. A short, tight corridor led away from the entrance. At the end of the hall was another door, a small staircase sat to the left which the Under was now climbing.

A Master appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Ragon," he said with no emotion as he approached, "what is it?"

"I heard your request for an extra hand denied," replied Master.

"Yea," said the Master now leaning against the door frame, "so?"

"I got four extra but I'll take three and you can have this one."

The Master at the door laughed and then shrugged.

"How old?" he asked.

"Not sure, the Sowan age slow. Looks around twenty to me."

The Master stepped out of the doorway and took Shaol's head in his large hands, held open his eye lids and stared into his eyes. Shaol felt the Master's foul breath on his face as he was examined.

"Late twenties by the eyes," he said releasing Shaol's head.

"You'd know better."

"What's wrong with you?"

Shaol remained silent.

"Answer," said Master.

"The back hurts and the hip," replied Shaol.

"How long?"

Shaol remained silent.

"Answer," commanded Master.

"A month," said Shaol.

The Master then grabbed Shaol between the legs, there was nothing there. The Master nodded and released his grip.

"This ones got a good temperament, should make a good servant. Still strong, just not strong enough for the caravan. It'd be a waste sending him to the butcher, now."

"I'll give you one for one."

"I need one for the water and two for the sled."

"I've already given mine, I might be able to find you one for this. You can get the others from Yulran."

"Yulran doesn't have your eye. I can give you an extra barrel a week as well, if you can get me your three."

The Master scratched his head.

"I got a Kaborn runt, should be good for the water. Two Sowan for the sled, but they're going to Darak."

"Two barrels," said Master, "but I want an Uln for the sled, a young one, not cut. I'll take a Sowan and the runt. Can you do that?"

"Done," said the Master quickly with a nod, "they'll be in barracks when you get back tomorrow."

"This is your new master, now," said Master as he turned to Shaol, "do as he says."

Shaol nodded.

"You know I've been good to you?" said his old Master.

"Yes," Shaol said simply and noticed his old Master was wearing the chain and stone, he wanted to smile but he knew not too.

And with that his old Master and his old life was gone.

"Get in," barked his new Master as he walked into the house.

Shaol followed quickly.

"Pysuun," yelled the Master at the door at the end of hall.

"We will wait for you," Friend whisper from behind.

Chapter 3

The cellar was hot and stuffy even in the early morning. Shaol had spent his life waking long before the sun rose and starting the journey to the lake and the three weeks of service to his new Master had not broken his body insistence to be awake as the tanks were pulled under the iron gate.

The work in the household was nothing like the caravan. There, Shaol would end the day exhausted, his energy spent, his muscles drained. Here, he was used to carry the odd box from the cellar to the house, rarely he would be ordered to follow Mistress around the marketplace as she purchased the heavier items from the stalls. Each week, the water barrels would be delivered and for the morning his body was tested as he hauled the heavy barrels into the water closet under the stairs, but when it was done he was sent to the chair in kitchen where he was given small jobs by Faun, the cook.

At night, when the others would crawl under their blankets, Shaol would lay on top of his fur blanket and stare at the small grate at the top of the wall and watch the street beyond, trying to still his mind until, finally, something like sleep would take him away from the stone room. His eyes would snap open, after what felt like only a few moments, the others still slept under their blankets, the street beyond the grate was still only lit by the faint street lanterns.

For the first time in Shaol's mind would not become silent when he commanded. He thought of the caravan and how the sleds with the empty tanks would be leaving their trails through the silver dirt. Five trees would pass them, one with brown wood and green leaves, the one that was small and sat low to the ground, dense and green, the third had no leaves, but with the sometimes blue, sometimes white flowers, the forth would grow the green fruits that would turn brown and fall to the ground as the time passed, the last had small leaves but long, arms that hung to the ground and that swayed in the wind. Shaol wonder whether the kids had ever noticed the trees, they never talked about them when they gathered in the back of the barracks at the end of the day.

The walls to the fortress were as large as the kids had said. The Market was on the far side of the stone city from the smooth, black wall, but Shaol was still able to see the top of it towering, high over the rooftops, higher than any man could climb. The fortress stood, large and imposing, just behind but it might as well have been a hundred miles away.

Though there must be ways in. The fortress needed food, it needed swords, it needed Unders to serve the Masters inside and if those things could enter, so could another. Shaol could find the treasure Friend needed and the kids could leave the city.

Shaol hated when his mind started to become excited with the thoughts, he hated when he started to wonder about what lay beyond the gate. He missed the caravan and he missed the work, he missed the Old Ones who had lost their minds to the poison thoughts, he missed the fights that would erupt when they became furious, he missed sending them back to their corners.

The ones around Shaol were not like that. They lay under their blankets and slept in the night, they were not kind to each other but they were not violent and they were not kind to him but they treated him as well as they needed too. It was a type of good but it was not his life, here he was nothing but a thing that sat on a chair while others moved around him.

The Masters decide what we are and what we do, Shaol remind himself as though he was a kid newly brought to the caravan, but each day seemed to become longer and the chair in the kitchen became harder. Friend was still waiting for him, somewhere in the city, her yellow eyes would be watching for him from the alley near his old Master's house.

The street outside was still lit by the lanterns and it would be for sometime. Shaol lifted himself from the floor and stood under the grate. He could feel the cool, fresh night air as he waited for the sun to rise.

"Can't sleep again?" said Pysuun as he pulled back his blanket.

Shaol shook his head.

"Come on, then," sighed Pysuun.

Pysuun stood up and scooped up the blanket and his boots from the floor.

"Get your clothes," he commanded.

Shaol collected his shirt and boots and followed Pysuun to the door. The door clanked as Pysuun unlocked it with the keys, the others stirred but did not wake. The two headed up the tight steps that led from the cellar to the kitchen.

"You can do the pots now and then the knives," yawned Pysuun leading the way, "I don't have enough work for you."

"I know," said Shaol.

"You need to get over this. It's been three weeks."

"I know."

"Get to it then and keep your shirt and boots on," Pysuun knew it had to be said.

Shaol pulled on his shirt as Pysuun lay out his blanket on the kitchen floor and pulled on his boots. Shaol never liked the shirt and boots the Unders were forced to wear around the household, the thread of the shirt rubbed against his skin and the boots squashed his toes. Without another word the large, round body of Pysuun disappeared under his blanket, all that Shaol could see of him was the straight, black hair that stuck out from the top of the blanket.

Shaol pulled on his boots, found a stool and set to washing the pots. Pysuun had done what he could for Shaol, but he seemed to know as well as Shaol that there was no place for the water bearer here.

As head of the household, Pysuun was charged with the care of the Unders here and gave the directions to others when the Master or Mistress were away and with the position came the heavy burden of being responsible for everything that occurred in the house.

Shaol had never seen the Master angry in the three weeks since he had joined the house, but the deep scars he had seen across Pysuun's back showed him that the Masters kept control in their houses in the same way that they did in the barracks.

The dull blade scrapped the hard filth from the pots. When that was removed, Shaol used a piece of leather to rub away what remained. His arms burned from the labour and he smiled to himself. The kitchen window was black and reflected Shaol in its frame. Somehow, he had become younger in the last weeks. The Master had not cut his hair to the skin like they had in the barracks and now he had short, red, wavy hair. His eyes were no longer a weak grey, they were a bright white and the skin around them had lost their dark rings.

The deep pain his back had recovered after the weeks of the light work. Sometimes, he hoped his old Master would return and take him back in exchange for the Kaborn runt but then Shaol would become angry with himself and chase the poisonous thoughts from his mind. His old Master did not care what happened to him now.

The scar on Shaol's arm itched, Master had burnt the old tattoo of the water bearer from his skin. Next to the mark was a red and green square, the mark of his Master Aksit. This was his life, now, he kept repeating as he scrubbed at the muck on the pots.

Shaol looked down at the shallow tub of milk in which he washed the pots. When the morning came he would have to empty it into the sewer grates. The fortress behind the black wall would need to get rid of its milk and its waste.

Shaol ignored the thought and scrubbed harder at the pots, the leather in his hand was becoming black. The milk had become a grey and brown.

Shaol cleaned until there was only one pot left, the world beyond the window was still dark. Pysuun kicked under the fur blanket, he was murmuring about something. Shaol wondered if the Unders here were attacked by the same poison thoughts that took the minds of the Old Ones he had known. If they did they hid their sourness better than those in the outer city.

"How are the pots?" asked Pysuun as he pushed off the blanket and sat up.

"One more."

"Good."

"What do you dream about?"

"Nothing," grumbled Pysuun to himself lying back on the floor and pulling the blanket back over his face.

Shaol continued to scrub at the last pot and the room became quiet again. After a while, Pysuun pulled the blanket away from his face.

"Do they treat the boys, badly?" asked Pysuun, "in the outer city?"

"Some are treated very badly, if they don't find someone to protect them."

Pysuun did not respond.

"You're not cruel to each other here," continued Shaol, "the Old Ones in the barracks aren't as good. The life makes men sour and when it becomes to much they turn on the kids. I did what I could to help them."

"Did you ever meet a boy named Horsuun?"

"We give the kids new names," said Shaol, "it stops them from thinking about what they've lost. Who's the boy?"

"My son," said Pysuun, "they took my family. They separated me from my wife and daughters, but kept me and my son together until we reached Tarlnath. I was brought here, I never found out what happened to Horsuun."

"How long have you been here?"

"Four years... I think," said Pysuun struggling with the time, "you?"

"I don't remember."

"I wish I could forget."

"Do you ever think of escaping and going home?" asked Shaol.

"No," said Pysuun, "what good is that now? It's already gone."

"Would you go home with your son?"

"In a moment."

There was silence between the two as Shaol finished the final pot. He stood and hung it from the hook next to the stove. Shaol always put them in the wrong place and Faun would always rearrange them all after he was done.

Pysuun was asleep again, his face still visible. He was old with hard lines that cut around the eyes. Shaol took the stone and the knives from the shelf and started to sharpen them as Faun had taught him. The blades scattered the lantern light across the roof as they slid along the smooth surface of the stone.

The knives were done and placed away. The window was stubbornly black and with the labour done the thoughts came again.

Maybe Shaol had met Pysuun's son, maybe it was Cutter or Rag or any of the others boys he had sat with a few weeks earlier. Could Friend take all the kids away from this place? What power did she have to take them but not to get the treasure? Could he help Pysuun? Would Pysuun trust him? Were there others who wanted to go home? Could Friend help them as well? How hard would it be to go over the black wall that towered higher than any man could climb?

Shaol did not even know a way through the maze of the city to the fortress gate, but if he had others, together they may be able to get into the fortress of the Masters.

Shaol wanted the sun to come, so that the house would become busy again and distract him from the thoughts that were trying to take his mind, but the sun would not rise because he wanted it too, he could only wait for the day to come.

Life had been better on the road to the butcher's hut.

That was the last thought he was willing to tolerate that night. None of these thoughts were right, they were the thoughts of a kid who was new to the caravan, not one who knew this city and his place in it.

It was his place to sit and wait until he was needed. He turned the chair and watched the black window and focused his mind on his own reflection. With all his willpower, Shaol made the thoughts quiet and he was at peace again.

Chapter 4

Mistress sat further down the bench with the children next to her, their round faces fixated on the green flame that rose from the floor at the front of the hall. The figures in cloaks chanted as they slowly paced around the strange fire, their heads hung low as they chanted, shadows danced, large and black, against the barren stone walls.

Shaol looked around at the other benches, they were empty except for an old Mistress who looked on with a simple smile, her skin sagged from her face and bulged at the base of her neck where the tight collar of her leather dress pushed it up and out. Another, much younger, Under sat next to the old Mistress, a large silver bowl of water in her hands. Shaol turned back to the flame at front of temple and waited while the chanting continued, he thought he could understand some of the words but simply let them pass through his mind as he had little interest in them or business that had brought Mistress to this place.

Shaol had been brought to hail back the two sacks of flour from the storehouse which Mistress had arranged for the feast to celebrate Master's return from the fields. Shaol looked forward to straining his back with the heavy load which was as strong as it had ever been, strong enough to haul water from the lake with all four of the sacks completely full.

The green flame gave off a large amount of heat and Shaol started to sweat, he wiped at his brow. Then, without warning, the chanting stopped and the figures in the cloaks became still, one stepped in front of the flame and lowered his hoods revealing a bald, dried, slender face. The one in the cloak held out his hands. Mistress stood quickly, her leather dress squeaked and cracked as she moved, walked down the aisle of the hall and stopped before the one in front. In her hands Mistress held the golden cup which she had filled with poison water from an old fountain in front of the hall before they had entered.

The cup glistened green in the brilliant light of the flame, she handed it to the cloaked man who looked down on Mistress without emotion. He raised the cup high in both hands and started to shout words that Shaol knew he did not understand. The man then turned towards the flame and thrusted the cup into the fire. His hand should have blistering and burnt, but it didn't, the cloaked man should have cried in pain, but his face remained still and empty. Shaol suddenly became interested in the ones in front of him. The cloaked man turned his head from the flame and looked at Mistress.

"Do you devote your life fully to Zeria?" he asked through dry, cracked lips.

"Yes," said Mistress bowing her head

"Do you believe Zeria hears and knows you?"

"Yes."

The cup was pulled from the flames and held it in front of Mistress. She took it in her hands and she yelped with pain, the cup dropped to the ground and scattered across the stone floor.

"Drink," yelled the cloaked man.

Mistress fell to the ground. The benches blocked Shaol's view of what was happening, but he could see Mistresses grand dress fly as she crawled across the floor. Shaol had never seen anything like it before, the sight of another giving Mistress made him grit his teeth and his stomach to drop. Shaol watched on as Mistress struggled on the floor, he wanted to help her but he had not been addressed, so he remained seated next to children.

Mistress stood again and the cloaked man nodded at her. She returned to her seat and the old Mistress rose slowly form her bench and approached the flames, the Under followed with the large, silver bowl.

The cloaked man took the bowl in both hands and thrusted it into the flames.

"Do you devote your life fully to Zeria?"

"Yes," croaked the old Mistress.

"Do you believe Zeria hears and knows you?"

"Yes."

The cloaked man removed to the bowl from the flames and held it in front of her. The old Mistress seized it in both hand and her skin started to pop and sizzle, filling the space with the disgusting smell of burning flesh. She drank from the bowl, her lips hissed as they touched the hot metal.

Shaol jumped from his seat as the Mistress drink the poison water, he had to stop her. One of the children grabbed his arm.

"Sit," said the young Master quietly.

Shaol lowered himself back to the bench watching the old Mistress empty the bowl. The Mistress did not collapse nor did she show any signs of pain, when she had finished drinking the Under held out a bag the old Mistress slipped the bowl inside. Shaol wiped the sweat from his brow, unable to believe what he had seen.

The man in the front of the flame nodded and the old Mistress started back to her seat. As she did, the dried out man looked at Shaol with a hard, empty stare. As their eyes met, Shaol felt a power rush through him then the cloaked man turned back to the flame.

"Zeria has seen your sacrifice," yelled the man and then added quietly, "but it is not be enough. In four days time she will hear your cries again."

The flame was gone and Shaol could see nothing in the perfect black. The hall was quite, the children next to him did not move, then the door of the hall opened on their own, the cloaked men had formed a line in aisle between the benches, they started to chant again, words Shaol heard and did not know. They walked past the Mistress, out the door and into the daylight of the city.

The hall became silent and after a short time Mistress stood.

"Children, come," she said simply and then her eyes snapped to Shaol with a hard look, "and you."

Shaol and the children rose obediently and silently from their seats. They followed Mistress into the dirt square that sat in front of the hall. Shaol looked at the poison well which sat by the door bubbled as they past. Shaol caught the sound of chanting on the wind, the ones in the grey cloaks were at the edge of the square, disappearing into the city.

Mistress led the group through the streets to the marketplace. Mistress walked directly to a stall that sold silver and gold jewellery. The children stood beside her not moving or speaking, they waited until Mistress spoke to them. One by one each was asked which of the gems were their favourite, each step forward, quickly surveyed the jewellery, gave a simple, quiet answer to their mother and then stepped back from the stall.

"You," barked Mistress at Shaol after she had brought a new chain, "two sacks of flour for Master Aksit from the warehouse."

Shaol walked away from the group and found the warehouse at the edge of marketplace. Two Masters dressed in armour stood in front for the building, both armed with large swords.

"What?" one snapped.

"Two sacks of flour for Master Aksit," said Shaol.

The guard looked at Shaol and then at the boy that stood next to him. The guard banged on the door hard and fast.

"Order for Aksit."

After a short while, the door swung open and a Master stood in the doorway with a book. He looked at the two Unders in front of him.

"Come," he ordered.

Shaol walked forward, the small blonde, boy followed not looking up from the ground.

The Master led the way through the storeroom, crates of cloth and wood lined the first few shelves, then jars of strange looking things of red and green floating in water, then rope made of soft materials, boxes made of wood. Shaol felt something rough against his back, he looked back and saw the boy was stuffing a small knot of fabric bound by rope down the back of Shaol's pants. The boy looked at him, nodded quickly and then pulled Shaol's shirt over it to hide the fabric.

The Master had gotten ahead of them, Shaol quietly caught up, the Master not noticing the boy slipping away for a moment before reappearing, slightly fatter than before. At the back of the long building sat a pile of sacks.

"Here, take two," said the Master marking something in his book.

Shaol picked up one and the boy came forward took the other in hand. The Master then led them back down through the rows of precious goods, this time the boy stayed next to Shaol the entire time and then the two were back into the city.

"This way," whispered the boy once they were clear of the guards and slipped down the side of the warehouse and down a few alley.

"My thanks," said the boy and placed the bag of flour on the ground.

The boy pulled out a leather sack from under his shirt and started to fill it with the goods he had tucked into pockets that had been sown into his clothes. The boy pulled out a round, red fruit and held it out to Shaol.

"This is for you," said the boy.

Shaol looked at the gift and smiled with amusement.

"Who are you?" asked Shaol.

The boy was slowly becoming thin again as the goods where moved quickly into the sack.

"Raphtune the Missing," said the boy.

"Who gave you that name?"

"Gave it to myself," said Raphtune, "you're Shaol, right?"

"Yes," said Shaol shocked that the boy knew him, "how did you know?"

"I know this city, well enough," replied the boy, "everyone thinks you got the knife. You with Aksit now?"

"Yes."

"The others'll be happy to know," said Raphtune and then point at the fruit, "you can eat that."

"You have it," said Shaol handing the gift back, "you have escaped your Master?"

"Raphtune the Missing has no Master. No cage can hold him," said the boy sternly.

"Why are you here, then?"

"Seeing the wonders of Gart," smiled Raphtune and then motioned to the remaining bulges in his shirt, "I just need a few more things before I can move on."

Shaol took the brown cloth from his belt and handed the fabric to Raphtune, enjoying the feeling of the soft material for a moment.

"What's this for?"

"A cloak," said Raphtune taking the fabric, "it'll help me blend into the dirt, my usual wares are a bit bright for this place."

"Do you know a boy name, Horsuun?"

"No."

"Can you find him?"

"Raphtune the Missing can find any man for the right price."

"I helped you today," said Shaol, "is that enough?"

"Sure," said Raphtune with a smile, "it shouldn't be hard."

"Thank you, Raphtune the Missing. When you find the boy you can talk to me through the grate of Master Aksit's home in the early morning. I wake with the water caravan."

"I'm sure you do," laughed the boy to himself, "here, let me help you with the flour."

Shaol knelt and Raphtune placed the second sack of the flour onto his shoulder.

"I'll find you when I've found Horsuun," said Raphtune and with that the boy darted off down the side street.

Shaol returned to the marketplace where Mistress was now inspecting the leather dresses on wire stands. Shaol approached and waited with the sacks sitting heavy on his shoulder.

The family enjoyed the marketplace until mid afternoon when Mistress had decided she had seen enough wares, two new dresses had been added to Shaol's load. The family then returned home and Shaol followed behind.

The house was busy with the others furiously rearranging the house for Master's return. One of the others took the Mistress's new dresses and Shaol took the flour through to the kitchen where Faun was sitting next to a large metal container that sat on the stove, inside was the special roast with the coals that cooked it, slow and soft. Shaol licked his lips and enjoyed the smell. Faun slowly turned a handle that came from inside the container.

"Close the door," barked Faun, "the whole house is going to smell of cat."

Shaol kicked the door shut behind him. Shaol savoured the smell of the roasting animal hoping there would be some left over for him when the feast was done.

"Where do you want the flour?"

"Over there," Faun pointed at a place behind the backdoor and then muttered to himself, "what am I going to do with all that?"

Shaol stood tall and stretched his back.

"Can I turn the cat?" asked Shaol, "I'm no good at cleaning."

Faun laughed and smiled. The last time Shaol had been given a rag and told to polish a table he accidentally cracked one of legs after pressing to hard on the precious wood and then a vase had toppled off it and smashed across the floor. Luckily, Mistress had never like the table and used the incident to get one she thought was better, Pysuun only received a few lashes.

"Take it," said Faun letting go of the handle, "it will give me time to do something with the flour?"

Shaol took the handle and started to turn it. Pysuun flew into the kitchen from the main house.

"You have everything you need?" asked Pysuun in a hurry.

"Yea, but do you know what they want with this?"

Pysuun shrugged and grabbed some milk from the cupboard.

"I don't know. Bread?"

Faun shrugged and shook his head.

"I'll get water," sighed Pysuun and then noticed Shaol turning the cat, "you found something to do. Good. Don't move."

Pysuun flew out the kitchen door and was gone.

The day passed and the servants came and changed into the fine clothes made of fabric that was only worn when the other Masters came to visit. Shaol was never given a set and he was glad, the clothes looked tighter than the shirts he was normally forced to wear.

The evening passed as Shaol sat in the kitchen. Boots clattered against the floor outside the kitchen. When another opened the kitchen door to speak with Faun, Shaol could hear the solemn chatter of the Masters from the small room at the front of the house. There seemed to be more tonight than had come to the house before.

Faun had vanished to help Pysuun serve the Masters, but after a time he returned to the kitchen and removed the lid of container revealing the large, brown mountain cat inside. Shaol helped him move the large beast to a serving platter, covered with leaves and fruits, the juices of the animal immediately started to gather on the plate. Shaol looked at the meal sadly, there were so many Masters tonight there would not be any left for Unders, but hopefully Faun would make a soup from the bones.

"Take the coals out the back," said Faun as Pysuun entered, "let them burn out in the yard."

Shaol collected the lower half of the container, now a mix of black coals and animal fat as Faun and Pysuun carried the meal from the kitchen.

The dark yard outside the kitchen was cool and fresh from the night air. Shaol could hear the Masters in levels high above him, their voices carried out the open windows and into the small space. Shaol let the empty words pass through his mind without any attempt to understand them, whatever it was the Masters talked of did not interest him.

Shaol lent against the wall and waited for the container to stop smoking, there was no need for him to be in the house and he did not want to return to the cellar. He looked at the alley that led to the lit street. Faun watched Shaol from the window, for a moment, then he disappeared from the window without a word leaving Shaol in the yard. He was not needed here.

The night passed and slowly the chatter from the high windows died and after a while he heard the Masters leave through the front door, one by one. The windows were closed and the lanterns turned down. Pysuun, finally, came to collect Shaol from the yard.

"Get the coals," said Pysuun with a tired look on his face.

"Are there any bones left?" asked Shaol as he carried the coals back into the kitchen.

"Faun," said Pysuun with a sigh, "bones?"

Faun looked at Shaol.

"Yea," said Faun, "I'll make a soup."

"Get this place cleaned up," said Pysuun, "you can have two bottles of the milk, no more. I'm going to bed."

Pysuun took a red key from his belt and handed it to Faun.

"Lock the cellar door when you come down," said Pysuun.

Pysuun closed the backdoor and locked it and did the same to the kitchen door.

"Don't wake anyone when you do," said Pysuun and turned to Shaol, "stay on blanket til dawn."

"Stack the pots, clean the plates and bowls, I'll do the soup," said Faun, "you can do the rest in the morning."

Shaol nodded with a smile. Faun started to scrap the large bones of the mountain cat into a large pot on the stove and poured in the two clay pots of milk. He then removed a bunch of green leaves hidden in the back of the large cupboard.

"Our secret, right?" said Faun flatly.

Shaol nodded as Faun cut pieces of the leaves into the soup and then lit the coals under the pot. Faun then started to help Shaol straighten the kitchen. Knives, boards, spoons and all manner of utensils had been thrown around the room during the preparation of the feast, flour coated most the benches and Shaol did his best to get the stubborn powder into the waste pale. Faun worked quietly next to him.

Faun was like Shaol, he had been an Under for so long he had forgotten his home. Shaol had never asked, but he knew. Faun did not talk like the others, he said what needed to be said and nothing more. Whenever the house was quite and the two were next to each other it felt like Shaol was back in the barracks with the ones he understood.

The dishes were cleaned, the pots had been stacked ready for Shaol to wash in the morning and the kitchen benches were ordered and wiped, the two waited and watched the milky soup to start to steam and bubble.

After a time, Faun declared it was ready and poured two large bowls of broth. It had all the tastes Shaol loved, the gamey taste of meat, the earthy flavour of the milk and the leaves gave a hint of the wind that whipped across the watery surface of his home.

Shaol stopped himself for a moment and then had another spoonful of soup.

Shaol wanted nothing more but to be out of this stone cage that was always hot and stuffy. The winds of the lake were fresh and cool and carried a smell that could not exist in this place. His toes were free to sink into the rough grit of the mud instead of being bound in metal and leather. It was were he belonged, he was not one who could clean tables or wash pots. This was not his world. This was not his home. He wanted to be in water with Friend.

The knife should have come for him.

But it hadn't.

And now he was trapped between the world he knew and a world he was ready for.

Faun looked at him from behind his bowl. Shaol met the gaze as he ate the last of his soup. There was a moment, Shaol knew he should not ask, but he did.

"How long have you been here, Faun?" asked Shaol.

"You've spent too much time outside today," said Faun quietly, "get to bed, I'll clean this up."

Shaol nodded at the one he understood and placed the bowl on the bench and headed down the stairs to cellar. He removed his shirt and boots and lay on top of his blanket.

That night floated in the golden waters of his home.

Chapter 5

Shaol lay on top of his blanket, his mind alive with the thoughts as he looked out the grate at the top of the wall at the softly lit street beyond. In the days since Master had return Shaol had started to become increasingly lost in thoughts of the fortress and Friend's treasure. She had waited for him and now Shaol was glad she had. The fortress and the thought that this life could end gave him new comfort as he sat in corner of the kitchen and waited to be called.

A shadow flicked across across the crate and then it returned, someone small was just beyond the bars. Shaol stood up and stepped around Pysuun and went to see who was looking into the cellar.

"I found him," whispered the voice of Raphtune the Missing.

"The backdoor," replied Shaol quietly making sure not to wake the others.

"Hurry, I won't stay long."

Shaol went to Pysuun's blanket and shook the round, lump hidden under the blanket. Pysuun jerked awake with a start.

"What?" he growled, groggy from the sleep.

"Upstairs, now," whispered Shaol, "you need to see something."

Pysuun went to speak but Shaol put his hand over his mouth and shook his head. Pysuun pushed back the blanket and snatched up his boots. Shaol found his clothes and both ascended the tight steps to the kitchen, once there Pysuun turned to Shaol.

"What's going on?" he grumbled.

"I've found Horsuun," replied Shaol simply, "the backdoor."

Without a word Pysuun was at the backdoor fumbling the blue key into the lock. He pulled open the door and looked into the yard.

"Horsuun," he whispered out the backdoor with an urgency.

"Quiet," hissed Raphtune hidden in the shadows, "you're going to get everyone's attention."

"Where is he?" snapped Pysuun to the voice.

"Calm yourself," snapped Shaol putting his hand on Pysuun's shoulder and pulling him away from the door, "come in, Raphtune, before anyone sees you."

A small figure wrapped in a black cloak swept past Shaol and into the room. Shaol started to close the door.

"Don't latch it," said Raphtune simply as he pulled back his hood.

Shaol let the door sit off the latch and stepped away.

"Where's Horsuun?" Pysuun stepped forward with a strange anger.

"Is that how you address your betters, slave?" said Raphtune with a sneer.

"Pysuun, quiet," ordered Shaol.

"Do you know where my son is?" growled Pysuun growing large.

Raphtune did not respond, he just stood in the centre staring down the man who was threatening him.

"I'm thirsty," said Raphtune flatly not breaking his gaze, "get me some water."

Pysuun stopped and then his head snapped to look at Shaol with his hard, black eyes. Shaol simply nodded. There was a moment then Pysuun snatched a metal cup from the shelf, unlocked the door that led to the house and vanished.

"Why did you bring that idiot?" hissed Raphtune angrily.

"It's his son I asked you to find, you don't have to worry about him."

"You have to worry about everyone in this place. Don't tell anyone else about me."

"I won't."

"Good."

"How much longer are you in the city?"

"Tomorrow will be my last day," replied Raphtune as he found a chair.

"Can you take them with you?"

Raphtune laughed.

"No, Shaol, Raphtune the Missing does not travel with others."

"Then I'll have to get them out myself."

"And how are you going to do that?" scoffed Raphtune, "I don't think the guards will just open the gates for you, even after all your years of loyal service."

"I have a way."

Raphtune shook his head but said nothing. Pysuun reappeared with the cup full of water and handed it to Raphtune.

"I never realised I could miss the taste of water until I came to Tarlnath," sighed Raphtune and drank from the cup, "I'll be glad to see the last of this damned city."

"My son?" said Pysuun quietly and politely.

"Yes, Horsuun," started Raphtune, "he's working at the fattery in the western part of the outer city."

"Is he safe?" asked Pysuun.

"His master beats him when the mood takes him, but he is safe and well enough."

"Did you speak to him?"

"There was no need."

"Can you get him out?" said Pysuun with a hardness in his voice, "anything, if you can do it."

Raphtune jumped down from the chair and put the metal cup on the bench.

"Raphtune the Missing is flattered by all this attention but he is not here to rescue lost sons, but don't worry Pysuun, Shaol has a way."

"What is this?" asked Pysuun turning to Shaol.

Shaol ignored him.

"Thank you for your help Raphtune the Missing."

"Good luck to you, Shaol," said Raphtune walking to the door, "though I would know, how are you planning to leave the city?"

"I have a friend who can help me escape."

"That is a powerful friend, I hope you can trust him."

"I trust her with my life."

"What is her name?"

"I don't know."

"How will she help you escape?"

"I don't know."

"Why is she going to help you?"

"Because she is my friend."

Raphtune put his hand on the handle of the door.

"Raphtune the Missing could always use another friend," he said stopping for a moment, "may he meet her?"

"She does not like to show herself to other," said Shaol shaking his head, "she is a lot like you in that way."

"I don't care who she is," said Pysuun, "when can she get us out of this city?"

"First, we must do something."

"Shaol, you stupid bastard," laughed Raphtune shaking his head, "and what does this mysterious woman want you to do?"

"She has lost a treasure to the Masters, she wants us to take it back for her," explained Shaol, "once she has her treasure she will take us wherever we wish."

"She will help me and my son leave?"

"She will take you home."

"Where's the treasure?" asked Pysuun, "I'll have it in her hands by sun rise."

"It's in the fortress."

"The fortress?" exclaimed Raphtune, "even I have not seen inside that place and I have tried."

"If there's a way in I'll find," said Pysuun his voice hard.

"Does this woman know a way in?" asked Raphtune.

"No," said Shaol, "but I thought we could find a way in looking like Unders that work inside."

"I have thought of that," said Raphtune and walking back to his chair, "there are servants but they don't leave the fortress."

"They just brought new prisoners to the city, the Masters were talking about it at the dinner," said Pysuun, "some of them are to be sent to the fortress. If we could, somehow, be confused with them we could get in."

"Even if you did," sighed Raphtune, "how do you expect to get back out? From what I have seen, once you're in you're never allowed to leave, it's a one way journey. There's a line the guards have drawn in front of the gate. I saw a girl accidentally step across it, when she was delivering something. They cut her down without a second thought, just left the body on the stones to bleed out while the rest of the goods were transferred."

"We'll figure out how to get out once we're inside," said Pysuun angrily, "the prisoners will be assigned in a few days."

"That's a sure way to get yourself killed," snapped Raphtune, "your time in Tarlnath has made you as stupid as the Orsil."

"Who are you to talk to me like that?" growled Pysuun.

"I am Raphtune the Missing," said Raphtune defiantly, "and while I have walked freely the roads of the eastern kingdoms, you have sat in this place and wiped the arses of the lowest of all the men."

"And yet you wear the same tattoos as us," spat Pysuun.

Raphtune laughed and walked up to Pysuun and held out his left arm and wiped away the black line that decorated his skin.

"Ink," he said with a smile, "Raphtune the Missing would never let the Orsil mark his skin."

Pysuun was growled to himself.

"Now look closer," commanded the boy.

"The tattoos are wrong," said Shaol noticing for the first time.

The tattoos that marked the face and arm of every Under signified their position, owner and task, but these lines and dots on Raphtune's arm, even the lines on his face were wrong.

"I didn't even need to learn what tattoos marked a slave. I just drew some lines, hung my head and was able to walk their streets without as much as a word from your masters. The Orsil see only what they need to see. They're paranoid and strong, that's what makes them dangerous, but, luckily, they're extremely stupid."

"If you're so clever why haven't you been able to breach the fortress walls," huffed Pysuun at the boy.

"I did plan to see the fortress before I left," said Raphtune walking back to his chair having made his point, "but when I saw how they guarded it, I just decided it was not worth the risk, there are other fortifications in this land to see."

"What have you learnt about the fortress?" asked Shaol.

"There's no way, that's what I learnt. You cannot even see the other end of the tunnels that go under the wall. The guards that watch the one open gate never go down the tunnel. The other three are shut and never used. Goods are delivered to the one open entrance, but then the guards move the barrels and sacks under the gate themselves, then servants from the fortress load them onto the different wagon and wheel them off."

"The goods move from the city to the fortress then," said Pysuun.

"You don't look like a rack of meat," said Raphtune.

"But barrels or boxes," asked Shaol, "we can hide in them."

"Could we get out the same way?" asked Pysuun.

"Not sure," shrugged Raphtune, "the goods go in. I've never seen them take bring anything out, but something has to happen to the waste."

"It is something," said Pysuun.

"Risky," said Raphtune, "where do they take the goods? How do you get from the storage room to the... where is it you need to go?"

"I don't know," said Shaol, "Friend, will show me."

"Does your friend know where this thing is?" asked Raphtune.

"No, she has not seen Tarlnath for a very long time."

"That's not good enough," said Raphtune forcefully, "you can't just run around a fortress blindly looking into rooms, you'll be stuck by a guard within moments."

"This is all I know," said Shaol.

"Then we need to talk to your friend," said Raphtune, "all of us. Once we know more, we can decide more."

"She will only talk to me."

"You do realise Shaol could be mad," said Raphtune turning to Pysuun with a smile.

"I've known crazed men before, Shaol is not one of them."

"How many will she take?" asked Raphtune.

"How many what?" said Shaol.

"You're going to need more help, I can get help, but I need to know how many she can free," said Raphtune.

"I'll have to ask her," replied Shaol.

"Then you need to talk your friend," said Raphtune jumping down from his chair again, "I'll be back in two days. I'll decided then if I'm going to help you."

"We didn't ask for your help," snapped Pysuun at the boy pulling the black hood over his head.

Raphtune laughed and vanished into the night. Shaol closed the door, slowly, and walked to pots that Faun had left for him to clean.

"I don't trust him," said Pysuun.

"We have to trust him," said Shaol, "he can move through the city freely, we can't."

"How are you going to talk to your friend?"

"She is being held by my old Master in his house," said Shaol, "I need to get there."

"I don't understand..."

"She is different, that's why she can help us."

Pysuun nodded as Shaol picked up a pot and a scrap of fur.

"He leaves with the caravan every morning, we can go then," said Shaol, "do you know the way?"

"Ragon? Yes, I know his house" asked Pysuun, "do you know when he leaves?"

"Yes."

"Then we go this morning."

Shaol shook his head.

"Tomorrow, you're too excited now" said Shaol, "this is something we must do with clear heads."

"I can't sleep," said Pysuun, "not now."

"Then help me with the pots, we can wait for the day together."

Pysuun grabbed a rag and a pot and sat on the floor and fumbled with the large, awkward piece of metal, spilling milk across the floor and onto his clothes. Pysuun was as good with pots as Shaol was with tables.

"Are you sure your friend can help Horsuun?"

Shaol simply nodded and continued to scrub, there was nothing more that needed to be said.

Chapter 6

The shadows danced as the street lanterns flickered in the wind that swept between the stone buildings. Pysuun pointed at the house across the street from the alley, Shaol recognised it from the one time he had seen it, many weeks earlier.

"Hurry, keep an eye out for the patrol," whispered Pysuun.

Shaol skipped across the street and down the short alley into the yard at the back of the house, the windows that looked down were black as the buildings slept. Shaol waited in the dark, Friend always knew when he approached and he hoped she still knew how to find him.

After a while, the yellow eyes appeared in the shadows along with the large, form of Friend. In the dim light, Shaol could see the outline of the woman with the large wings.

"It's good to see you, again," said Friend with a nod.

"I'm glad you waited," replied Shaol.

"There is no one else," said Friend with a warmth in her voice.

Shaol smiled to himself in the dark, he had missed her kind words.

"I'm going to find your treasure and then this can done."

"And I will take the boys home."

"And those that help."

"As many as is needed to get what is mine. I will take them wherever they wish, I promise each this. And where will I take you?"

"When they are all safe, you'll take me to my lake," said Shaol, "I'll live my last days by it's shore."

"I am so glad to know you will come with us."

"There's nothing left to be done here."

"Then strength and patience is all you need."

"It's all I have ever needed," smiled Shaol with a nod.

"You are a good friend to me."

"I need to know about the treasure and the fortress."

"I know nothing of the fortress, Shaol, the last time I walked the streets of Tarlnath there was no fortress or Masters, there was no need for them then. My treasure is a small wooden box that you will not be able to find yourself, that is why you must take me with you."

"Where is it?"

"It was kept in the Temple of the Sacred Light in the old city that once stood where the fortress stands now, it will still be there waiting for us."

"The temple is gone then, there is nothing but the fortress."

"None would have dared to destroy the true city of Tarlnath. It is still there, under the fortress."

"That's not possible."

"It is," said Friend with a nod, "so we must find a way under the fortress and into what remains of the old city."

"How can we get to it, then?"

"Once inside the fortress we will need to find a way down into its belly."

Shaol puzzled over the thought of a city under a city for a moment and then shrugged it off, he did not have time to think on it now.

"That is all you know."

"This city is a mystery to me, Shaol, that is why I need you."

"I have stayed longer then I should. When we have found a way in I will come back for you," said Shaol.

"I will bring myself to you," said Friend, "the city is much more dangerous then I had thought. I do not want you to risk yourself for me."

"How?"

"I will find a way," said Friend, "until then do not come back here. Do not attempt to enter the fortress until I am with you, you will need my guidance."

"I've missed you, Friend," said Shaol.

"We will find a way in, I know this," said Friend, "and then all this will be done and we will be by the lake again."

Shaol left the yard and back across into the street to where Pysuun was waiting in the dark shadows.

"Back to the house," said Pysuun, "we can talk there."

The two worked there way back through the alleys, hiding around corners when the lantern light of the guards swung across the walls ahead, until they were back in the safety of the kitchen. Shaol sat on the stool and explained to Pysuun what Friend had said.

"Is it possible for a city to be under the fortress?" asked Shaol.

"The fortress is larger than anything else I have seen, it could have a city under it," said Pysuun, "though it may not be that simple. They may have built the fortress into the old city, I had seen such things in Sowland's Watch. The Sowan used old buildings as the base for towers. If they did that here then this Temple could be inside the fortress or part of something else."

"We need to look over the black wall," said Shaol.

"It's strange," said Pysuun, "I have never heard the Masters speak of what is inside the fortress."

"I have spent my life in its shadow," said Shaol quietly, "and yet I have never thought on it."

"What do you think about hiding in barrels?" asked Pysuun shrugging off the thought.

"It seems dangerous," said Shaol, "but possible."

"What about getting marched in with the servants?"

"It seems the best way," said Shaol.

"Do you think the boy will come back tomorrow night?"

"Yes."

Pysuun muttered something to himself and then found the two leather bound books he had placed in the kitchen earlier that evening and started to write something on the pages.

"I've decide I'm not good at pots," said Pysuun to the pages.

"There's not enough for two, anyway."

"Do you know how to read or write?"

Shaol shook his head and started on the pots.

"I was the only one who survived the raid who knew letters and numbers. It's why they didn't kill me in the pen, the other men my age were all just taken out and stabbed."

Shaol saw glimpses of the cage they had placed him in, it was just outside his village. He could see through the wooden stakes as the Masters huddled in a group muttering to themselves, still dressed in their dull, blood stained armour. He saw the houses of his village, black smoke rising from the roofs. When the Masters had stopped muttering his family had met the same end as the men of Pysuun's village.

"I had taught Horsuun letters before we were captured," continued Pysuun, "I wonder if he stills remembers."

"He does, the kids always remember."

"We will find a small store and start another trade," said Pysuun to no one, "and we're going to continue as though these years never happened."

Shaol scrubbed the pots, the milk slowly turning grey as he did. The sun came and the house woke. Pysuun had finished with his books and Shaol stacked the pots, trying to remember where Faun had told him to place them, but one pot looked very similar to another, so Shaol still got it wrong.

The water was to be delivered that morning, so Shaol spent the early morning hauling the empty metal barrels from the water room into the street and then awaited the large wagon of drums.

When it arrived, the empty drums were collected by the Unders that pulled the wagon, while the larger ones heaved the full barrels from the wagon and placed them in front of Shaol. There were no words, just silent labour until the job was done, then the wagon continued to the next house where the Masters that lived there hauled their own empty barrels, their Unders too weak to lift the barrels alone and the Master always refused to work with those beneath them.

Faun joined Shaol and helped him carry the water, barrel by barrel, into the house and placed them in the cramped water room under the stairs. When the last barrel was placed, Pysuun appeared to bolt, lock and chain the door. The Masters prized their water over all else and went to great lengths to keep it secure, even though Shaol had never seen one in the city who had the courage to steal such a precious thing.

When the work was done Mistress came down the stairs and approached Shaol.

"You will go to the market and fetch four pots of lantern oil, eight raw skewers and a bag of salt," she said quickly and handed him three bags of coins, "these coins for the oil, these for the skewers and these coins are for the salt. Get a bag from the kitchen, you'll need it to carry the oil."

Shaol was surprised, Mistress had never let him go to market alone before.

"Do you know I am trusting you with this?" she said his a hard voice.

"Yes, Mistress."

Mistress nodded and turned without another word, her large, leather dress hitting the walls of the tight corridor and disappeared up the stairs.

Shaol walked through the busy streets of the city, the leather bag in his hand clinked with the coin purses Mistress had given him. Masters strolled the wide streets followed by flocks of children and Unders.

After only a few wrong turns Shaol found the large marketplace. It was quiet today, many of the stores had not been opened, their leather covers pulled over the metal stands. A handful of Masters wandered, lazily, amongst those that were open looking at nothing. Shaol approached the salt store first and was given a pouch of salt, he then approached the meat stand and received the skewers, finally he found the Under that sold the lantern oil and bought the heavy, clay pots. Shaol did his best to count the number he was given was correct. The low numbers were easy for him, but when the numbers became large, like the ones in the Master's books, his mind would swim and he would lose track of what they meant.

With the goods in hand, Shaol turned from the square and look up the black wall that stood behind the stone buildings of the city. Shaol left the market and found his way back to the wide road that cut through the city and led the way to the one open gate. The street was wide enough to take four or more wagons, lined on both side by lanterns larger than those that sat above the other streets, most sat on poles, but others had even been hung from rope strung up between buildings.

Shaol looked up the road and even though he was a good distance from the wall, he could easily see the large mouth of fortress gate as tall as the largest building in the city.

Shaol turned away from the gate and made his way down the street in the direction of Master's house. As he walked, a wagon loaded with goods came rolling up towards him. It was filled to top with barrels, boxes and folds of leather and bundles of tools. Several large Unders pulled the goods up the road while a handful of others trailed behind.

The wagon passed and Shaol continued his way back to the house, the inner gate appeared at the end the wide street set into the the inner wall, beyond it sat the orange and brown of his old life.

Suddenly, more guards than Shaol could count turned from the streets that ran in front of the inner wall. Two columns, two guards wide came together to create a column four wide, the guards came together in perfect lines and formed a marching wall of flesh, leather and iron. Their armour crashed against itself, hard and loud, as they stepped forward together each boot hitting the the road at the same time. Even though there was enough room for them to pass Shaol easily, he still jumped out up and off the road onto the pavement and watched the long, lines pass him. As they did, Shaol wondered if they were heading into the fortress. He looked at the meat in his hands, Mistress was expecting him home soon but he wanted to know.

Shaol followed at a distance as the guards continued up the street. The Master and Under who were using the road jumped aside for the procession. The guards seemed to become smaller as they found themselves in the mouth of the enormous fortress gate. The wagon of goods was already in front being emptied by the Unders.

The four lines continued forward until they were just in front of the goods wagon, then the columns split again. Two turned to the left, two turned to the right and the guards continued to march along street that ran in front of the black wall, their boots still hit the ground together. Not one of the guards had came close to the large gate.

Shaol looked at the tunnel for the first time. The huge, dark throat that vanished as it turned far in the distance was more imposing than the black walls that hid the fortress. Torches burnt on the walls lighting spots of the tunnel here and there. Something was moving in the gloom, Shaol could just see the shape of a wagon being pulled out of the depths by a group of Unders.

The goods had been placed a good distance from the gate and the guards were now lifting and moving the goods underneath to the open arch to the other side. The wagon continued to approach slowly from deep inside the wall.

Shaol had seen as much as he could, he saw the guards disappearing along the black walls as it curved. He turned and continued back down the road towards the inner gate and Master's house.

Mistress was waiting.

"You're late," said Mistress, flatly as he entered.

Shaol stood in the doorway.

"Where were you?" she asked.

"I got lost in the streets, Mistress."

"Do you know your way now?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"I won't be forgiving next time," she spat, "get to the kitchen."

Mistress stomped up the stairs and Shaol rushed into the kitchen where Faun was working on the evening meal.

"Come on," said Faun, "I need to get these on the stove."

Shaol handed him the meat and took the salt from his pocket.

"You need to be more careful," said Faun without looking up from the stove, "if you're caught, it's the rest of us that pay."

Shaol did not respond. He started taking the clay pots out of the bag and put them in the cupboard. Faun said nothing else, he just went about cooking the meal for the family.

Shaol knew he had been caught and he should have been more careful, but he had seen the gate and he had seen the transfer of the goods, he had seen the guards march the streets, he had seen the torches that lit the way to Friend's treasure. He felt closer to the fortress, it felt like a real place that that he could enter if he could just find a way.

The morning came and Shaol woke on top his blanket. Pysuun was already awake and was standing under the grate. Without words they moved through the others that lay on the floor and climbed the stairs to the kitchen. Pysuun went to the backdoor, unlocked it and took it off it latch.

Shaol took the knives from the walls and started to sharpen them. Pysuun had one of Mistress' leather dresses in hand and began to rub a wax into the material making it soft.

"You're both very good servants," said Raphtune as he pushed open the door, "maybe I should consider take one of you with me to wash my clothes and make my meals."

Pysuun shook his head but said nothing.

"What did your friend have to say?" asked Raphtune as he pulled down his black hood.

"Anyone that helps us will be taken from the city," said Shaol, "it's a promise to them from Friend, herself."

"That's very generous," said Raphtune, "did she explain how she will do that?"

"She can do it," said Shaol flatly.

Raphtune sighed.

"Did she say what this treasure is and how we can find it?"

"There is an old city behind the wall," said Shaol, "the treasure is there in the Temple of the Sacred Light."

"The Sacred Light?"

"You know it?"

Raphtune was quiet for a moment.

"Anything else?" he said finally.

"Pysuun thinks the temple might be part of the fortress, Friend thinks it could be under the fortress."

"Or torn apart to build the black walls," shrugged Raphtune.

"Friend says the Masters would have left the city."

"My boots are quite dirty," said Raphtune looking at Pysuun still rubbing the wax into the leather, "do you clean shoes, as well?"

Pysuun continued to ignore the boy.

"What do you think?" asked Shaol.

"I don't think you know much more than you did two nights ago."

"We know plenty," sighed Pysuun, "we need to look down, we know we are looking for a temple and what its called. We are not going to know everything before we go inside."

"I would like know something meaningful though," said Raphtune flatly, "I was looking around the city and found the new slaves you heard about, the ones headed for the fortress."

"Can we look like them?" asked Pysuun.

"More or less," said Raphtune, "except for one small difference. You still have your tongue."

"What?" asked Pysuun.

"The Orsil have cut out their tongues," said Raphtune, "I told you they were paranoid."

"That's disgusting," exclaimed Pysuun.

"They will forget," said Shaol quietly to himself.

"But, like I also said, the Orsil are stupid," said Raphtune, "if you're going to take the tongue you should also take the hands."

"They can write," laughed Pysuun.

Raphtune nodded with a smile.

"I found one," said Raphtune, "her name is Hassa and she is very eager to help, with her you'll have eyes beyond the wall."

"When do they go in?" asked Shaol.

"Not sure," said Raphtune, "but we have a few days and that's all we need."

"We need her to find the old city," said Shaol.

"We also need her to tell us if we can get in by the goods wagon," said Pysuun.

"Guards and their movements," added Raphtune.

"We can get her messages in with the goods wagon," said Pysuun, "I know a man who works the goods wagon, he hates the Orsil, he will help us get the messages through."

"Can he deliver the goods himself?" asked Raphtune.

"He should be able too, why?" said Pysuun.

"Less chance of another finding the message," said Raphtune.

"A fold of leather with a mark on it, a circle with a line through it," said Shaol, "we put the clay in the leather and we mark it. He then places the leather in front of gate. Hassa must find a way to get it from there."

"How do we get messages out?" asked Pysuun.

"Over the wall," said Shaol, "it may be in pieces but we can put it back together. Tell her we will take anyone who is willing to help us."

"She may have a hard time telling people that," said Raphtune shaking his head, "but I will give her your message. Are you sure your friend on the goods wagon is willing to help?"

"He is more than willing," said Pysuun, "he's new to the city and wants to go as bad as we do."

"I need a way for the others to identify him," said Raphtune.

"He wears a ferret skin cap, he is short, has copper skin and brown, wavy hair, to the shoulder."

"That should be enough."

"What does Hassa look like?" asked Shaol

"Young, tall, skinny, Uln with light, white, hair that runs down to her waist."

"How long do you think she will need?" asked Pysuun.

"As long as it takes," said Shaol, "she will need time to learn the fortress and gain the trust of the Masters and the other Unders."

"Sadly, Raphtune the Missing does not have an eternity to wait," said the boy, "he will have his boots cleaned for helping, but then he must be moving on."

"You don't want to see the fortress?" asked Shaol.

"There are other things in the world to see," said Raphtune with a shrug, "I have The First Kingdom to explore and then Dragon Perch. The Fortress of Tarlnath can wait for another day."

"Will you help us start the messages?" asked Pysuun suddenly desperate.

"Raphtune the Missing always helps those in need for a small price," said the boy with a small, "he only asks his boots glisten when he walks from Tarlnath."

"They will," said Pysuun.

"Give us a month," said Shaol, "you may still see the fortress."

"Four weeks I'll give you, but then I'll be finished with this city."

"Good," said Pysuun.

Raphtune pulled his hood on and walked to the backdoor.

"I will return when I know more, I will knock four times," said the boy and he was gone.

The next morning, as Shaol scrubbed the pots, there was four quiet taps at the kitchen door. Pysuun pulled himself away from the trousers he was mending and opened the door. In the dark yard, on the step, there was a small pair of muddy boots made of plush fur and brilliant silver. Pysuun brought them into the kitchen and as Shaol cleaned the pots, Pysuun cleaned the boots.

Chapter 7

Pysuun leant against the bench staring without words into the dark glass of the window. Three weeks had passed since they had decided on their course of action and he had run out of things to occupy the mornings, now he just slowly tapped the stone surface with his fingernails and studied his reflection while Shaol cleaned the pots.

Raphtune had arrived to collect his boots a few days after he had left them, bringing the news that Hassa had agreed to their plan, the messages would be dropped along the far western wall into the soft earth of the inner city. The guards rarely patrolled that area so collecting the messages would be much easier.

Pysuun had met with Yor, the one with the ferret cap, in the marketplace to relay the plan. Yor eagerly agreed, desperate to return to his mountain home.

Raphtune returned a few nights later to tell the pair the Unders had been moved into the fortress. Hassa planned to make contact within the next three weeks. If she hadn't, then Raphtune would move on and Shaol would have to find another way to retrieve the messages. Raphtune vanished into night saying he would return once the contact had been made.

Since that night, Pysuun and Shaol had woken each morning, climbed the stairs to the kitchen and waited for the four knocks to come again.

Shaol had learnt to wait and let the world pass him without concern. Pysuun had not learnt this, his short life in the city had been cluttered and busy running the Master's house, he never had the time to think on his world like the others did. But since the father had found his son and knew he was close, Pysuun had slowly grown restless and impatient with the plan that was not moving forward.

Pysuun had become distracted in the daytime and became angry at the others for no good reason, at the same time he started to act strangely around Shaol giving him easy jobs, yelling at Faun or the others when they talked down the Shaol. The others had started to notice the change in the head of the house and they had started to mutter amongst themselves about the pair who went to kitchen each morning without reason.

Shaol had watched on but said nothing. Pysuun had a strong mind and Shaol expected Pysuun would settle himself after a week of the odd behaviour. But Shaol knew he had been wrong when that day Pysuun had returned that afternoon from the marketplace.

"The Master who runs the fattery was at the market," Pysuun had said to Shaol with a low voice.

Shaol became looked at the face of his friend and knew the thoughts that were going through his mind.

"Yor pointed him out, the one who thinks he can beat my son whenever he feels," growled Pysuun.

Shaol stayed quiet, but looked into the eyes of his friend, they were flicking wildly.

"He is smaller the other Orsil, he wouldn't put up much of fight."

Shaol left the kitchen and down to cellar without another word he would wait until he could speak to his friend freely and without interruption. Now, in dark morning that had become their world, Shaol could be the friend Pysuun needed.

Pysuun fingernails tapped against the stone disrupting the peace of the room, there was no rhythm to the slow clinks, they came when Pysuun wished them too, some were thoughtless and soft, others vigorous and hard.

Shaol took a breath.

"Sit with me," he said to his friend.

Pysuun stopped his tapping and looked at Shaol still scrubbing a pot in the centre of the room.

"Why?"

"I need to talk to you."

"Talk, then," shrugged Pysuun and tapped his finger softly against the stone.

"Please, Pysuun, sit with me."

Pysuun sighed, took the chair from the wall and sat by Shaol.

"What do you see when you close your eyes at night?" asked Shaol.

"My son," said Pysuun simply.

"I see six people," said Shaol.

Pysuun was quiet for a moment.

"Why?"

"There are six people who need me," said Shaol, "I let myself see them once a day and I remember why I do what I do."

"That's why I see my son."

"I know," said Shaol quietly, "close your eyes now."

"Why?"

"Because I am your friend."

Pysuun sighed again with annoyance, he did not want to close his eyes, but finally he did.

"What do you see?"

"My son."

"Why do you see him now?"

"Because he is always with me," growled Pysuun softly as the poison came forth.

"But he is not with you, Pysuun," said Shaol softly, "he has been taken from you."

"I know," spat Pysuun his eyes snapping open, they were alive with hatred.

"You cannot let yourself become sour," said Shaol staying focused on his pots, "otherwise, you'll not be there for your son when he needs you."

"I won't be sour when we leave this damn place," said Pysuun standing and knocking the chair back.

"It eats away at you from the inside, if you let it, and there won't be anything left when its done. You need to be strong for your son."

"I am being strong, I'm doing this for him, I'm fighting for him."

"You're not," said Shaol forcefully looking up at Pysuun with a hard look that made Pysuun stop, "it is easy to be sour, restless, angry, to give yourself up to the pain. But patience, restraint, this city, that is what is hard. Living in it as it is not as you wish it to be, that is what requires strength.

"I could have beaten the kids to pretend I had power, I could have take the eyes of my Master to believe I had strength, I could have run for the gates..."

Shaol stopped for a moment as the face of his first friend took his thoughts. Shaol brought himself back into the kitchen, Pysuun was looking at his feet.

"These are the poisonous, easy thoughts that are listened to by those who have given up. I could have become sour and I could have given in to them but I didn't because I had something I had to do.

"On the water caravan the kids needed someone to watch them, that was what I lived for then. Here, now, in this kitchen, I have six people I need to take home.

"Rag, Cutter, Hassa, Yor, Horsuun and you.

"I want them all to go home but to do that I need to stay here, in this world, in this life. And for you to save your son, you need to be here, as well. As a servant, as a father with a son who is beaten, as one who has no power to control any of that."

"I'm not powerless, I will do something for my boy."

"You will do something for him and you will give him nothing. We are Unders, Pysuun, you are an Under. We are only what the Masters let us be, it is hard, it is painful but it is this life and nothing comes from pretending otherwise."

"You're talking a lot tonight," snapped Pysuun as he looked back at Shaol, his face softer then it had been.

"I talk because I need too," said Shaol looking away from one of the few friends he had ever had in city, "I hope you've heard me."

Shaol went back to the pots in the grey-brown milk. Pysuun unlocked the backdoor and vanished outside.

Shaol waited, quietly, for the sun to bring the grey morning and when it did, Pysuun returned to the kitchen. He said nothing and he simply went down the stairs to wake the others as he did every morning, his old, lined eyes were blackened and tired.

Faun emerged from the cellar, he started to rearrange the pots Shaol had placed back incorrectly on the shelves.

"I need you to mince the bad meat, add some salt to it," said Faun waving at the offcuts that had sat on the stove all through night.

Shaol spent early part of the morning mincing and then found the chair in the corner.

Pysuun arrived with a bag full of goods from the market. He dropped the bag to bench and it gave off a wet squelch.

"Did you see, Yor?" asked Shaol when Faun had gone into the cellar to find some ingredients.

"Not now," said Pysuun looking at him through his still blackened eyes, "we'll talk about it in morning, only then."

Shaol nodded and opened the bag of animal innards. Pysuun left and Shaol was left to the task of helping Faun stuff the spoilt meats into the guts of some unknown animal.

The day passed and the meals was served to the Masters. The night came and Shaol looked upon the faces of the six who needed him and fell asleep.

When Shaol woke in the early morning Pysuun was standing under the grate his blanket in hand. They ascended the steps as they always did.

"I'm going to try and sleep tonight," said Pysuun, "you're right. I am still here, a servant and nothing more until I free of this city."

Shaol nodded, grateful that his friend had listened, he just hoped Pysuun was strong enough, the words were always easy to say but to fight the poison thoughts were another thing all together. Pysuun laid down on the floor and pull the blanket over his body as Shaol moved the pots from the bench to the floor, sat on the stool and started to clean.

"Yor was not at the market today," said Pysuun from the floor, "I don't know if anyone has seen Hassa."

"Then we wait another night," said Shaol simply.

The morning passed Pysuun kept turning under his blanket, the poisonous thoughts were still coming for him. Silently, Shaol wished his friend well in the horrid battle.

There was no knocks at the door that morning. Three more nights, was all Raphtune had given Hassa. Shaol had much more time to give her. He scrubbed at the pot and watched himself in the dark world of the window, his hair was now long, tangled strands of red on his head.

The house woke and the next day passed. Only two mornings left.

Pysuun laid himself under his blanket and that night he slept easier. The dark rings around his eyes had started to fade and he carried himself as he did before the talk of his son and escape. Blunt, stern and focused on running the household as he once had done. He also went back to treating Shaol like he once did until the world of dark morning came, there they were friends again. Shaol was glad to see Pysuun return to man he once was, that was the father Horsuun needed.

The last night came. Pysuun put himself down on the floor as Shaol scrubbed.

"Tomorrow night?" asked Pysuun.

"We can discuss it, then."

"Agreed."

Pysuun and pulled the blanket over himself and slept through the last night.

Shaol wondered if Raphtune would come to say farewell. The boy had no reason to return to the kitchen and did not seem to be one to show himself unless there was a need. Silently, Shaol farewelled the boy who would now be beyond the outer wall onto some place far beyond the city Shaol knew.

The next morning came, Pysuun leant against the bench while Shaol sat on the stool in the centre of the room.

"Yor can get to the message and we still have the wagon," said Pysuun.

"Hassa may still try."

"Do we wait for that?" asked Pysuun with a shrug.

"We should we still need a way out."

"I've been watched the tunnel when I've had the chance," said Pysuun, "nothing ever comes out not guards, not Unders, not waste, nothing. I have watched the servants from the fortress and even they don't step outside into the city, they just wait in the tunnel. The only ones that step though the gate are the guards and even they don't go more than a few feet."

"Do the Unders looked scared or hurt?" said Shaol.

"They look like every other Under in this place."

There was silence between them.

"I don't think were going to get a message from Hassa," said Pysuun, "it was a good idea, but who knows what's happening in that place."

Shaol did not want to agree with Pysuun, but he did. The Masters kept their fortress locked up tight, it would not be safe or easy but the Masters would have it no other way.

There was a soft knock at backdoor and Pysuun jumped from the bench, he steadied himself and then went to the window slowly and looked out. There was another quiet knock at the door.

"It's a girl," whispered Pysuun looking back.

"Open the door for her," said Shaol simply.

There was another harder knock as Pysuun found the key and unlocked the door. In the open doorway stood a barefoot child of a Master dressed in a leather dress with flowers cut into the brown material, the wide, muscular girl stood almost as tall as Shaol. Pysuun and Shaol stood silent and waited as was expected of them.

"Which one is Shaol?" asked the child quietly.

"I am," said Shaol quickly.

"Take this," she whispered and held out the silver chain and stone.

Shaol moved forward, took the chain as the child was looking nervously into the yard.

"You'll take me with you when you leave," said the child, "that is the deal I have made with the voice. You'll honour it."

"I will," said Shaol with a nod.

"Who are you?" asked Pysuun.

"Jarga," said the child, "I don't have time and I cannot be seen talking to you."

"Can't you just walk out of the city?" asked Pysuun.

"No one is free here."

"We will take you when we leave," said Shaol.

"Good."

"Do you know what is behind the walls of the fortress?" asked Shaol quickly.

"The fortress?" said Jarga surprised at the mention of the building then collected herself, "no one knows what is behind the black wall it is scared place no one is allowed to enter. The ones who are sent beyond are never allowed to return to the city."

Jarga turned without another word and ran into the shadows.

"This is getting out of hand," exclaimed Pysuun an annoyance in his voice, "now a Master's child knows who we are and that we are planning to escape."

"Friend does what needs to be done."

"She risks nothing but our lives with this, Shaol."

"She needs her treasure."

"I want to talk to your friend."

"She will speak to you if she chooses," said Shaol holding out the chain, "I don't command her."

Pysuun quietly studied Shaol for moment as he held the chain out to him.

"Maybe Raphtune was right, maybe I following a mad man."

"Raphtune was right about many things," said Shaol lowering the chain and taking it in his fist.

Pysuun shook his head, frustrated.

"I do agree with you, though," said Shaol, "this is not going well, we have exposed ourselves and we know almost nothing."

The was a silence between the two.

"The Masters cannot enter or leave the fortress," puzzled Shaol.

"They cannot leave the city, either."

"No one is free here?"

"The Masters serve like us?"

The idea was ridiculous, the Masters had always did as they wished, gone where they chose, taken what they wanted. And then the thought came to Shaol.

"Could we have been thinking on it wrong?" asked Shaol to himself, "we see a city surrounding a fortress, we see the Masters of the city and we think that they are the Masters of the fortress."

"There is no one else here, there are the Orsil and us."

"We have never seen a Master enter or leave the fortress because it's not theirs," Shaol continued the uncomfortable thought, "but the true masters of the fortress, they may move as choose through the city and under the gates."

"There is no one else," repeated Pysuun annoyed, "no one comes beyond the borders of Gart. They are thrown in chains and made to serve, if they do."

"There are others who command the Masters," said Shaol, "I saw it myself."

"Who?"

"The men in grey cloaks with the dry skin," said Shaol, "the ones who are not burnt by flames, the ones who can make the poison water clean."

"The Clerics?"

"Have you ever seen the water wagon go into the tunnel?"

"No," said Pysuun quietly.

"How does anyone survive in the fortress without the water from the lake? How could anyone survive behind the walls unless they command flames that can make the poison water safe?"

"I have never seen the Clerics walking the streets," said Pysuun thinking he walked across the room back to the bench, "they give the blessings at the temple and then wander into the streets."

"Do they go beyond the black wall?"

"I've never seen it," said Pysuun tapping on the bench again, fast and hard with thought, "but I've never watched them outside the temple. I just thought they would have a quarters somewhere in the city."

"Could they be the masters of fortress?"

"The Masters are scared of Clerics and the gods," said Pysuun thinking, "Mistress has become convinced the gods have cursed her and since then she has never missed a blessing but how could they be the... no."

"We must know, they may move between the city and the fortress."

"If they do, it will be hard to see. Mistress always takes me to the temple with her and I must be by her side at all times."

"Is Yor able to watch them?"

"No, he would be either with the goods wagon or stuck in the marketplace."

"Then it must be me," said Shaol flatly, "when is the next flame?"

"Three days."

"I'll be sick that day and will stay in the cellar when the house wakes. You leave me the key to the cellar door and when it is clear I can sneak out. I'll get to the temple before they leave and then I will follow them. We need to have a reason for keeping everyone out of the cellar."

"You need to be sick today," said Pysuun now pacing the kitchen, "and tomorrow you need to be worse. That night you leave, get through the city and find a safe place to watch the temple. The morning after, I'll check on a sack of rags under your blanket, the others won't look and in the morning I'll lock a sack of rags in the cellar and tell others to stay clear.

"At dusk, after you have followed the Clerics, you must wait for me in the alley across the street. I will come and bring you back in then."

Shaol nodded as Pysuun took the blue key of the backdoor in hand.

"I hope Hassa is alright," said Pysuun as he locked the backdoor.

"She is," said Shaol and went to the pots waiting for him.

Pysuun slept under his blanket. Shaol cleaned the pots and placed back on the shelf, the knives were sharpened, then Shaol smiled at his reflection and became lost in the dark window and waited for the day to come.

Shaol stumbled a few times as the day passed and he started to move slower than needed and sometimes held the bench to keep his balance, making sure Faun noticed the struggle.

The next night, as Shaol was bringing in a tray of cold coals, he let his left leg buckle underneath and the coals scattered across the kitchen floor, Faun yelled at him as he stumbled forward, trying to clean up the mess. A fingertip of salt caused his eyes to water and turn red and made his nose run. Sarna, the children's nursemaid, sent him to the cellar after looking at his face.

Shaol went to bed early and when the others joined him he was sure they heard him squirm and cough underneath his blanket. Pysuun told him to sleep away from the others under the grate, the others moved to the opposite the corner.

The next day passed, Shaol kept his eyes red and nose running with the purple salt that added fire to a meal but by the evening he no longer needed to pretend, the salts had worked into his body and he had started to feel truly ill, causing him to vomit up the evenings meal of mince into the waste basket.

Shaol woke from under the blanket and the others breathed quietly around him. Pysuun was standing by the door already holding it open. Shaol pulled himself up and moved up the through the bodies and up the stairs.

Pysuun followed Shaol to the kitchen and then unlocked the backdoor.

"Do you know the way?" asked Pysuun with a large smile.

"Well enough," nodded Shaol, "the marketplace and then away from the inner wall."

"Go, you must be back before dusk. I'll come and find you in the alley across the street when it is safe to return. Good luck."

Chapter 8

The backdoor closed and locked behind as Shaol stepped into the yard. The yellow eyes of Friend opened and burnt from the shadows.

"I will watch ahead," she whispered and then vanished.

Shaol moved to the end of the alley and looked out, the street was quite and empty. Shaol dove forward from the shadows, lit only for a moment by the lanterns, and then he was through the opening into the next alley and safe in the shadows. He looked back at the grate to the cellar and paused, Shaol suddenly wanted to return to the kitchen, it was were he was meant to be, cleaning the pots as he did every morning. Shaol shook his head and took a deep breath, there was nothing to be done in the kitchen tonight.

Friend appeared next to him.

"Three guards are coming up the street to the right," she whispered and was gone.

Shaol quietly headed down the alley and found another to the left he ducked in and peered around the corner. After a short time, the silence was disturbed by the soft rustle of the leather and metal armour, then the three guards appeared between the buildings holding high their lanterns. Shaol pulled back from the corner and waited for them to pass. Then he pulled away from the wall and started to weave his way through the maze of alleys, coming out occasionally on an open stone space where the buildings met awkwardly, sometimes at dead ends and he was forced to turn around and find another alley.

Friend appeared beside him.

"Three more beyond the turn walking away from you towards the main street."

Shaol slowed himself, continued down the alley and turned the corner, the large, silhouettes of the guards walked ahead slowly without any clear purpose, their lanterns showing the way through the unlit alleys.

There was another alley to the left, Shaol ducked down it without being seen and then he went down another, then the wide road was in front of him. The large lanterns burnt bright above it, throwing orange light across the road and the buildings that flanked it. The lanterns strung up above it burnt just as bright, destroying any shadow that would have given Shaol cover.

Shaol could clearly see several guards both up and down the road, every now and then they would wander randomly to a new position before resuming their watch. Shaol looked hopelessly at the wide river of stone, if he ran the guards may not see him but then thought against it, he needed to go back and find another way.

Shaol quickly looked up the fortress, it was now nothing but a enormous, shadow above the city. The hard, shards of its towers shot high into the sky, fearsome and menacing.

"There are guards coming up behind you," whispered Friend from behind him, "they will be on you soon."

"I can't cross this," whispered Shaol, "I'll be seen."

"You cannot go back this way."

Shaol heard the sound of the guard's armour.

"When you hear the guards shout, run," said Friend quickly and was gone.

Shaol looked down the alley and saw a lantern swing into the alley. There was a set of stairs near the alley, he leapt from the shadows and pulled himself against the stone of steps hiding the best he could from the guards.

"What is that?" a guard shouted from the road in front.

"I've never...," shouted another.

"Some kind of bird," shouted a third.

"Shoot it."

Shaol saw the guards looking up at roof top several buildings away, it was his only chance, he sprinted across the road as fast as he could, there was a dark gap in front of him, he need to get into it.

"It's moving."

"After it. Bring it down."

Curses and shouts started to fill the night air, the armour of the guards came alive and echoed down the street. Shaol continued to run in full view across the street, focused on the gap between two buildings. He heard some more guards coming from a street near the small dark gap. He was between the buildings.

"There was something over there," shouted a guard from somewhere behind Shaol.

Shaol did not stop, he ran down the alley he found himself in, there was another alley just a few feet ahead.

"There's someone down here," shouted a voice that rang off the stone walls.

There was the loud clank of metal boots on stone as Shaol swung to the left. There was no place to hide, the back streets of the city were always kept clean and empty. There were some small nooks and niches to hide in, but they were too shallow, a guard would spot him in an instance if he tried to squeeze into the space. Shaol ran down the straight back street, there was an alley ahead.

"Over there," shouted the voice of a pursuer.

Shaol looked behind him, three lanterns swung madly in the street. Shaol veered to left, it was a dead end, the boots came thundering up the alley towards him.

"It turned left."

"Get against the wall," hissed Friend.

Shaol pushed himself against the wall. Friend leapt into the alley her brown and golden feathers glistened and sparkled in the lantern's beam.

"What is that?" cried a guard.

The boots were silent as they came to a halt only moments before the entrance to the alley. Shaol felt his stomach drop. There was a door slightly inset in the wall, he edged quietly along the wall to the door and pushed himself against the cold metal. Shaol stopped breathing.

A deafening, scream echoed down the alley, it was deep and long, and Shaol jumped as the sound made the walls shake. The guards cursed and yelled in fright.

"Kill it," screamed a guard and they charged.

Shaol saw a flurry of swords, armour and legs swept past the alley, the guards continued to scream and yell as they chased Friend down the back street and away. Lights started to appear in the windows that looked down on Shaol. He had to move before a someone saw him from the window.

Shaol slipped back into the alley, the guards were disappearing in the distance. Shaol went back and continued up the alley, he found a left and took it, starting to worm his way through the city as the windows above started to become orange.

A left turn. He took it.

Bells were now ringing across the city, Shaol knew he needed a place to hide, he would find the temple if he survived the night.

Another turn. Nothing but stone walls and iron doors. Shaol had to keep going forward, the streets would give him something.

"I led them away they are near the temple," said Friend next to him, "I will not be back tonight, find a place to hide."

Friend was gone again. There was a small narrow opening between two buildings, just large enough for a single man. Shaol squeezed through it, there were no doors or windows in this alley. He look for something to hide behind, there was nothing. He moved through the gap and to the next street. He looked left and then right, lanterns swept across the walls in all directions.

"Everyone inside," shouted the guards, "no one on the streets tonight."

Shaol pushed himself against a wall as a lantern appeared at the end of the back street, he waited. When it was gone he continued his desperate search. Most of the windows were lit up now, all the city had been woken by the bells that continued to ring.

Another street. Wide, open and lit.

Just as Shaol was about to retreat, he saw it, a dark, low tunnel that led under some stairs which rose to meet a yellow door. The tunnel was not deep but it was enough for him to hide. A guard would need to kneel with a lantern to find him inside but if he was discovered there was no other escape. It would have to do until the bells stopped ringing.

Shaol crawled into the small tunnel, at the back he found a grate that looked through into a cellar. From inside came the sound of Unders moving under their blankets.

A metal door unlocked and opened and a voice came through the grate.

"Everyone stay in cellar, the bells aren't for us."

The room fell quiet and soon the sounds of people sleeping came through the grate. Shaol knew he would have to get moving before they woke and saw his shadow in the morning light.

As the night drew on, the clank of the guard's armour came close but would then fade. Doubt started to grow in Shaol's mind. He only needed to get across the city and he had already been caught by the guards. He was safe, for the moment, but he had come so close to his own end, which Shaol knew he was ready for but for some reason the fact felt like a dark shadow that wormed its way into his mind causing his mind to race as he hid, helpless and alone.

Shaol wondered how Raphtune had been managed to walk the streets of the city with such ease. The boy would be far beyond the edge of the dead lands by now. He had known many things for a kid, maybe he had been right to shrug and forget about the fortress. After all, if Friend, who was able to appear and disappear as she chose, was unable to find a way over the walls, how could Shaol with a body made of flesh and bone?

The night was hard in the small space, dread rushed through Shaol's mind each time a guard came down the the street, their shadows large in the lantern light. The legs would come to the entrance of the tunnel. Once had stopped, but then they kept moving and Shaol realised he had stopped breathing. The rush of chase was gone and now all Shaol had left was fear and doubt.

Shaol felt the heaviness start to lift when, finally, the city become grey in the morning light. Shaol sighed as he realised the bells had stopped ringing, he had survived the night. The Unders beneath the grate started to stir and yawn. Shaol pushed away the doubt that had built in his mind, he had to move and he had to be thinking clearly when he did.

Shaol pulled himself from the tunnel and started down the street. He lowered his head and slowly walked the streets as he had the day he had been sent to the market by Mistress. Shaol was lost, he need to find the wide street, the inner wall or the black wall, any would give him his bearings again, but he need to find one of them. He continued to walk, turning this way and that.

Eventually, he spied the bright lanterns of the wide road, still burning from the night before. He turned and started to make his way towards the market as he heard the guards turn into the street behind him. Shaol took a deep breath and calmed himself, he was expecting this.

"Stop," command one.

Shaol stopped and turned. The three guards held their extinguished lanterns low at their sides.

"What are you doing out?" asked another.

"I was sent to get supplies by Master from the market," said Shaol.

"The city is closed," ordered another, "return to your master immediately."

Shaol nodded and the guards pushed past him to continue along the alley. Shaol smiled to himself. Shaol knew the way to reach the market but walked away from it as the guards had commanded him to do, he would find it later.

Shaol found another group of guards, soon after and when they questioned him he told them he was heading back to his Master because the city was closed. Content with the response, the guards continued their empty search.

The sun rose above the buildings and the city could no longer be held back from its business, the doors were unlocked and Masters, children and Unders spewed onto the street allowing Shaol to become lost in the busy streets.

This was how he should have moved through the city, Shaol thought to himself as he walked now without notice, not at night when he was easily seen in the clean, empty streets, but during the day when he was just one walking aimlessly amongst the rest.

Shaol found the marketplace and for the first time spied Yor in the ferret cap. He then looked up at the black wall in the distance and made his way towards the temple.

The dirt square opened up before Shaol. The fountain of poison water sat in the centre, beyond it, the small hall made of simple stone, the outside was bare of any decoration like all the other buildings in the city. Four, solid walls with two large, iron doors with a hint of rust set into them. There were no windows, no other door, just a stone box with a roof of metal sheets that slightly bulged above.

The Masters that walked around the square refused step onto the dirt, avoiding it completely, preferring to hold to the thin, stone pavement that wrapped around it. Everything else in the city had been sealed with stone but, for some reason, this one patch had been left untouched.

Shaol did not want to look different so he did not separate from the others around him and approach the temple, he instead walked slowly around the square. The temple sat alone in the centre. It was strange, he thought, the rest of the city was such a tight maze of streets, alleys and buildings squashed together within the inner wall, but these Grey Men who could command the Masters held the only building that had been allowed to stand alone and away from the others. A building for the true masters of the city.

As Shaol walked the thin pavement as he waited for the Grey Men to appear and as he did he heard the Masters talk amongst themselves.

"A Demon was seen in city," explain one to another, "some men shot it with bows, but it just vanished into the night."

"Is it gone?" asked the other with a panic in his voice.

"Demon's don't just leave, you have to get rid of them."

"Are we safe then? What can we do?"

"Stay in your house at night, salt the steps to your doors but keep your windows the unlocked. The Demon spend the night trying to enter thought the window, but they can only enter through the door. If it hears you it can come through the door, the salt will keep most back but sometimes it can cross the step anyway, depending on the type..."

Shaol could not hear the rest of conversation as the pair walked out of ear shot.

"It was the size of two men with wings like a bird, swooped down from the sky and tore apart one of the guards," one explained to another, "that was what Tarlak said and he shoot at it, himself."

"I heard it had two heads and could appear wherever it wishes," said another.

"They're going to triple the guards til they have it."

"How are guards going to help us? Demons can destroy a city."

"I know, that is why I'm going to the blessing today. Zeria'll keep me safe."

As the morning passed more people had started to crowd the pavement around the dirt square. At midmorning the doors of the stone box slowly began to open without the work of any man. Once the doors were fully open, the Masters dared to step away from the stone and onto the dirt, they filled their assortment of cups and bowls with the poison water that flowed from the fountains head, wearing gloves to keep it from their skin, and then they pushed into the temple. There were so many Masters, the Unders that followed them were told to wait outside in the dirt.

Through the large crowd Shaol saw Master and Mistress, together, collecting their water. The sea of bodies was so large that Shaol did not fear them noticing him as he still waited at the edge of the square.

The temple became full and Masters that where late grumbled to themselves as they turned away and poured their water to the dirt.

Shaol heard the chanting come from a corner of the square, a corner that was near the black wall but on the side of the square that was away from the only open gate. The Grey Men appeared, the hoods of their grey cloak hiding their dry faces. As they approached, Shaol tried to understand what they chanted but the words still meant nothing to him.

The Grey Men, five in all, moved across the square in a straight line and entered the square box. Masters inside the hall began to jostle each other as the metal doors swung closed.

Shaol waited with the other Unders as the morning passed.

It was around midday when the doors opened again and the chant of the Grey Men returned to the square. In a single line they crossed the square, retracing their steps away from the open gate. Shaol followed at a distance.

The Grey Men worked their way through the streets. Masters and Unders stepped out the path of the slow moving men. The line came to the road that led to a closed gate. They crossed the street and continued through the alleys. There were less people in this part of town, away from the temple and marketplace where most of the Masters gathered during the day. Shaol started to feel exposed as the streets became emptier but the Grey Men, who still chanted, did not seem to notice him.

Another of the roads was in front of the Grey Men and the line arched turned towards the closed gate of fortress. Shaol hurried towards the end of the alley, he stuck his head out there he saw three guards turned to face the black walls as the line approached. Shaol took a breath as the large, gate started to rise into the stone of the black wall. Shaol watched closely he would see them do it, step under the arch and into the dark, unlit tunnel.

But then something took his attention, something white and bright was coming down the tunnel at a great speed.

The Grey Men continued forward, chanting their meaningless song as they went. Then as the Grey Men were at the gate the large, white thing was in front of them. It was large and round that was as wide the mouth of the tunnel and the size of a large house, two lanterns brighter than Shaol had ever seen burnt fierce and white from its surface. Shaol looked on as the Grey Men approached an opening in it and they disappeared inside. Shaol searched for words to describe it, it was like a white stone, perfectly round and polished to point that it reflected the light of the braziers that sat in the front of the gate like a mirror.

"You," barked a guard who was no longer facing the wall, "stop."

Shaol stood still, running would not help him now, the guard stormed across the street. The polished stone started its retreat quickly up the tunnel and the gate started to lower, neither made any sound.

"What are you doing?" yelled the guard as he approached quickly.

"I was headed to the temple," Shaol could not think of another lie.

"Who is your Master?" yelled the guard now only a few feet in front of Shaol.

Shaol was lost his words, he could not say his Master's name.

"Excuse him, please," came a quiet, monotone version of Raphtune's voice, "father left him outside during the blessing and he just took it upon himself to wander. He hadn't seen the Clerics of Zeria before and he's a little daft."

"You should stay where your master leaves you," sneered the guard taking into Shaol's face in his hand.

Shaol did not resist as the Master roll his face around in his large hand.

"He will be whipped," said Raphtune slowly, "father is not a forgiving man."

"Good," said the guard studying his face, "if I see you near this gate again, I will have my sword in your gut."

The guard pushed Shaol back and to the ground.

"I'll take him back now," said Raphtune nodded and bowed.

The guard shrugged and walked back to his post by the closed gate. Raphtune watched as Shaol pulled himself up from the stone road and Shaol saw the boy for the first time. Raphtune was dressed in a fine leather pants cut perfectly to his size and a red and yellow leather shirt. He had removed the ink lines from his face and was wearing a mop of long, black hair over his own blonde hair, Shaol could see through the hair to the stretch to the wrinkle leather that held the hair together.

"Thank you," said Shaol.

"You speak when I say," spat Raphtune angrily and loudly.

Raphtune led the way down the road for a short while before pulling Shaol into an alley between two buildings. Once the open streets of the city were far enough behind them, Shaol spoke again.

"I thought you had left," he said.

"Raphtune the Missing will leave when he is finished with this city," the boy replied from under the ridiculous hair speaking again his normal animated voice.

"Have you been watching me?" asked Shaol.

"No," laughed Raphtune, "I saw you in the square and I thought to myself what had brought the ever-obedient Shaol from his kitchen. It must involved the fortress for him to be so rebellious."

"I am very lucky you chose this costume."

"Raphtune the Missing would have saved you in any form, he always has a plan."

"Have you heard from Hassa?"

"No," said Raphtune sadly shaking his head.

"Do you think we will hear from her?"

"I think that something very important is in that fortress," said Raphtune, "and I want to know what it is."

"Did you see the Grey Men go beyond the gate?" asked Shaol.

"No, I was coming down the alley," said Raphtune recalling the events, "when I got to the street you were being yelled at and the Clerics were gone."

"A thing came to collect them," said Shaol, "that is how they disappear so quickly."

"What thing?"

"A stone as large as a house came down tunnel. The Grey Men were able to get in it through a door and then in took them back down the tunnel."

Raphtune ran his hand through his fake black hair. The more Shaol looked at it, the more strange the hair looked on the boy.

"Then the Clerics can come and go as they chose," said Raphtune.

"I think they are true masters of the city," said Shaol, "even the Masters are not allowed to return to the city once they go into the fortress."

"That would explain a lot about Tarlnath. The Orsil are too stupid to run a city in the dead lands, it requires more thought than they can manage. Right now, they are all panicking because someone saw a shadow on a roof."

"You don't believe there was Demon?"

Raphtune laughed.

"If it is a demon, it is a long way from home. A guard just saw someone moving through night, but the Orsil are easily spooked."

"We can go into the fortress, now. We have a way in and a way out," said Shaol, "will you help us?"

"What is your plan?"

"The goods wagon will give us a way in and under the gate. Once inside we take the cloaks of the Grey Men and come back by the stone. We just need to fool the guards long enough to get by them then we need can vanish into the city."

"Then we have to get out city," said Raphtune.

"The water caravan, only it is allowed to leave the walls."

"The boys can help with that, but we can't all leave that way, one at most."

"We just need to get the wooden box to Friend, she can do the rest."

"Then we need a den big enough for us, near this gate. We disappear into the house as soon as we are out of sight, you and the rest stay there until I return with your friend."

"You'll take the treasure?"

"I will," said Raphtune simply and forcefully.

Shaol paused for a moment and then smiled and nodded.

"We're going in blind," continued Raphtune.

"I think that's what the masters of fortress demand."

"I think you're right."

"We'll find Hassa."

"We'll come back for Hassa when the task is done."

"I will make sure she is not in danger."

"You're being a fool, Shaol, and one of these days Raphtune the Missing won't be there to save you."

"We will find Hassa," repeated Shaol and then added, "and then we will find what we need."

Raphtune studied Shaol with his hard, young eyes.

"We'll need grey robes and ash, then," said Raphtune finally, "the ash will make our skins pale and dry like the Clerics. The grey robes will hide us long enough to get away."

"We can take the cloaks once we're inside."

"I don't want to go anywhere near the Clerics and neither should you. Who knows what they a capable of. We go in with the robes then we can leave the moment we need."

"You're a bit small to pass as cleric," said Shaol.

"But I am small enough to hide under your robes."

"We take in a robe for Hassa."

"Shaol, you're a very frustrating man," said Raphtune angrily and as Shaol went to speak Raphtune held his hand up to Shaol and he stopped, "we will take one in for her but you have to understand we may not need it."

Shaol nodded stiffly.

"I'll get back inside the warehouse. We need fabric."

"Are you able to get back in?"

"Raphtune the Missing walks through any door he needs too."

"I can get ash for our skins, are you able to make the cloaks?"

"How many?"

"Three, me, Pysuun and one for Hassa."

"I'll find you when it's done."

Raphtune disappeared down a back street. Shaol looked up the huge black wall over head, from here he could not see the top of as the wall curved slightly as it rose nor the fortress behind. He smiled as he looked at the smooth, black stone.

Shaol found his way back through the city with ease and waited in the alley across from Master's house, his mind was excited by all that had happened that day. He lowered himself to the ground and watched the front door and the alley next to it that led to the yard and backdoor.

What remained of the day passed and no one came or went from the house. The sky started to turn a deep red, an Under came up the long, street, lighting each street lantern with a flint and stone on a long metal pole as he slowly approached. Shaol fell back down the alley and found a place to hide from sight.

The lantern near the alley was lit and the Under kept moving down the street. Shaol continued to wait. Some Unders saw him as they walked down the alley, their hands full of goods, they ignored him and disappeared into a house.

Pysuun had not appeared, the sun had set and the sky was now dark, the moon started to rise above the roofs of the stone buildings.

Shaol thought for a moment, something maybe wrong and waiting in the alley would not change that. He needed to get back into the cellar before the others went down and discovered he was missing.

Shaol slipped across the street and into the yard. The kitchen window was bright and he could see the shadow of Faun moving inside. He went to the backdoor and tried the handle, quietly, it was locked.

Shaol went to the window and peered in. Faun was fussing with some pots, no one else was in the kitchen. Shaol felt like he had no other choice, he tapped on the glass. Faun looked across at the window and saw the face of Shaol peering back at him. Faun nodded and turned to the door that led back onto the main house.

Faun did not have the key to the backdoor, he needed Pysuun to unlock it. The pair would have to lay out their plans to Faun, but Shaol could give Faun back his freedom. Shaol waited by the window and after a short time Faun reappeared, Master was behind him.

That was all Shaol needed to see. He was gone from the window, the yard and across the street. They had been discovered. He needed to get lost in the alleys, he would think on it all once he had a place were he was safe.

Shaol ran for the wide street and when he came to it, he slowed, steadied his breath and looked out the guards had not taken their position yet, he walked calmly across and into the alleys of the next part of the city. The night was now on the city and the moon was starting to rise high above the buildings. Shaol made his way, once again, through the maze of walls. He could not remember where he had found the tunnel he had found the night before, but if he searched he may find something similar.

No, Shaol thought, the market had tents and stall that were closed at night, no one would look under the leather sheets tonight. He could rest and think, he needed to think.

The market was not far. Shaol just needed to get through the open ground of the square to a stall without being seen. The bells of the guards tower began to rang three times across the city. He did not know what that meant but he knew he had to hurry.

Shaol moved with a hurried pace through the streets then the open space of the market was ahead. The place was dark and silent, sheets of leather had been pulled over the stalls. The lanterns had not been lit which gave Shaol the perfect cover to cross the stone square.

Shaol moved to the ring of stalls, found the corner of one and slipped through the gap in the sheets. Underneath there was just enough space for him to lie between the metal stand and the leather. Shaol positioned himself in the thin, awkward space.

All Shaol knew was he had been caught and if he had been caught then so had Pysuun. Would Aksit just beat Pysuun? The Masters refused to lose hands on the caravan, after the beating they would be sent back to work, but in the city the Masters had less need for their Unders. Would Aksit do something worse? This was not something Shaol could know.

Shaol gritted his teeth and kicked the frame of the stand, he needed to find Pysuun.

Shaol felt the fatigue in his muscle and slight dullness in his mind. For now, Shaol would sleep and when he woke with the caravan, he would find out what the Masters had done with Pysuun.

Shaol closed his eyes and and steadied his mind, he needed rest for him and his friend. He saw the seven that needed him and then lowered himself into the golden waters of his home.

Chapter 9

Shaol eyes snapped open, the morning had come and the world was dark as the water caravan moved from the city.

The air in the small space under the leather had become hot and crushing. Aksit's house was over the wide street, down the alley, after the turn there was an alley to the left, then a right, passed the red door was another left, down the alley to the street. There was the house and the one who had Pysuun.

Shaol pulled himself from the stall looked across into the marketplace. The lanterns above were still not lit, the windows of the buildings were dark.

Shaol quietly moved through the handful streets between the marketplace and the road, listening for the sound of the guards armour but none came. No lantern light fell across the walls, his confidence grew and Shaol started to move quicker.

The lights above the road burnt a pale green as a light mist rolled down the stone towards the inner wall. Shaol looked up the road at the large iron mouth, the gate was closed. The moon sat low in the sky, it also gave off a strange, green glow. Shaol looked for the guards, there were none he could see, the lanterns above hissed and crackled to themselves. Shaol did not have time to think on it, he had to reach Pysuun.

Shaol ran across the road and the mist kicked up in his wake. He was through the alleys and now looked across the street at front of Aksit's house, the colourful lanterns in the windows had been extinguished.

Shaol looked again for the guards, there was no one in the street. He across the street to the grate that led to the cellar. Inside he saw the bodies under blankets. Four, one was missing. Pysuun was missing. Next to Shaol, the mist danced on the hot air that rose from the cellar.

Shaol went to the backdoor, his boots crunched on salt that had been scattered on the back step. Shaol tried the handle, as he expected it was locked. He removed his leather shirt and wrapped it around his fist and punched the frail glass of the window and brushed the shards from the sill. He pulled himself through the window and into the familiar kitchen.

Shaol tried the door to that led to the house. It was locked, he descended the steps to the cellar door and banged on the door.

There was the sound of a key began to scratching against the door and then came the hard clank of the lock turning. The door open a small way and Shaol barged it with his full weight. A body behind tumbled back into the dark. The keys rang out as they collided with the stone floor, the others kicked awake under their blanket.

Faun was on the ground. Shaol jumped on the Old One, took him by the throat and started to squeeze.

"Pysuun," growled Shaol.

"Master took 'im," choked Faun.

Shaol felt Faun's face crack as his fist came down onto it. The Old One fell back as Shaol released his gripped and snatched the keys from the ground. Shaol left the cellar, slammed the door behind, took out the keys and locked the Unders inside.

Shaol opened the door to the house and made his way to the stairs, throwing his shirt to the ground in the hall as he went. The first level was where the younger children slept, Shaol went to the doors and locked each from the outside. Then the second level, where the older children slept and he did the same.

With the doors secured, Shaol moved to the third level where Aksit and Revra slept. A single hall which ended with a single wooden door carved with trees, beast and flowers, all the things not found in the city. Aksit loved the door more than anything else he had taken.

The lanterns on the wall of burnt low and orange. A vase sat on an ornate wooden cabinet, long dead flowers sat inside, their once colourful petals littered the top of the cabinet, dry, brown and lifeless.

Shaol stepped up the hall, the shadows falling hard across his face, he turned the handle of the precious door and it swung open.

In the room sat the stone bed where Aksit and Revra laid together. The sheets of the bed flecked in the light from the hallway.

The slender, short form of Shaol cast a dark shadow into the room, neither of the bodies stirred under the fabric. Shoal moved to end of the bed and kicked it with his boot, the hard metal boot cut into his feet as it banged and shook the bed.

Revra cried as she jumped awake, the sheet slipped exposing her naked body. Then, she saw the form over the bed she screamed pushed herself up against the back of the bed.

Aksit rolled from under the sheet and rounded the bed. The hunched, naked form of the Master was still large and fearsome in the half light.

Aksit did not speak he just lunged forward at Shaol. The Master was strong, stronger than Shaol had thought, the Master picked up the small frame of the Under, ran it across the room and crushed it against the stone wall of the bedroom.

Shaol brought his fist down on the fat face of Aksit, it did not break as easily as the ones he had known, Shaol brought it down again, as strong as he could. Aksit tried to grab at the arm with his free hand as the elbow that held Shaol dug harder into his chest but as Aksit tried Shaol felt the weight of the Master shift to the left giving the chance to push away and slip to the right, his back scrapped painfully against the stone wall as he went, but Shaol was now free.

Shaol spun around to face Aksit and as he did he brought his foot up and slammed it into the Master's gut, Aksit stumbled back into the wardrobe. Shaol took the moment to steadied himself and found a position in the centre of the room. Aksit pulled himself from the wardrobe and as he did Shaol heard the wood crack and splinter as Aksit tore off a metal pole attached to the piece of furniture.

Aksit started to circle, Shaol waited for an opening as Aksit started to whip the piece of metal through the air. The pole swung flew through the air as the Master lunged forward, Shaol tried to jump forward to grab the arm but he was too slow, the pole connected, hard, hitting Shaol in his side, a sicken crack came from inside his chest. Shaol grabbed the weapon and held it fast under his arm, wrapped his hand around it and wrenched it back with all his strength.

Aksit stumbled forward and the pole slipped from of his hand. Aksit was close enough, the pole rang as it dropped to the ground as Shaol brought his head down. Both heads cracked together as Shaol brow found Aksit's flat nose. Aksit legs buckled as the blow took his senses.

Shaol brought his knee up to meet the Master's chin, Aksit howled as his teeth cracked together and the Master fell to the floor. Shaol kicked the face on the ground with full force of his metal boot. Blood started to pool on the stone floor.

Aksit grabbed Shaol's leg with his large hand and Shaol started to loose his balance. Aksit had the other hand against the ground and then his shoulder was in Shaol's gut. Shaol stumbled back, the world spun for moment, his chest screamed and then he felt an unfocused punch hit his face, it still had enough force to make him stumble across the room. Then another punch, more forceful this time, Shaol hit something wooden and then he fell back and through through a mirror, the glass shattered and cut deep into his shoulder.

Two hands grabbed Shaol, spun him around and threw him into the carved, wooden door. Shaol head hit the door with a force that made him see red and then black. Shaol pushed himself from the door and into the hallway. He turned just in time to see Aksit again, metal pole in hand. Aksit swung the pole down at Shaol, but it caught on the roof instead of its true target. Shaol picked up the vase of flowers and hurled it at Aksit, it flew wide and shatter agains the floor in the bedroom.

Aksit threw away the pole and jumped on top of Shaol. Aksit had him pinned against the rug. Shaol brought his knee up and dug it into the Master's crotch, Aksit screamed. Shaol grabbed the head above him and made the already shattered nose of Aksit to meet his forehead again. Shaol then managed a short short hard blow to Aksit temple.

Aksit started to drool from his mouth, his eyes were empty and glazed and Shaol push the hulk of flesh to the side and sprung free. Aksit shook his head and started to pull himself along the ground toward Shaol. Shaol grabbed the wooden cabinet and it toppled from the wall and onto the Master, trapping his foot underneath. A lantern that had sat on top of the cabinet, fell to the stone, the glass in it shattered and the flame died.

Aksit began to squirm, trying to free of the cabinet, but his foot was too slow. Shaol jumped on top of the cabinet and felt the bones start to give way underneath as he hopped up and down on the wood. Aksit screamed like Shaol had never heard a man scream and the walls shook. Shaol snatched the broken lantern from the ground and whipped it across Aksit's face.

"Where's Pysuun?" shouted Shaol at the twisted, bloodied face.

Aksit spat blood at the tattooed face that screamed down at him.

Shaol brought the lantern back across Aksit face.

"Tell me."

Aksit pulled himself up and grabbed Shaol by the neck trying to choke. Shaol brought the lantern down again and Aksit lost his grip. Shaol tossed the lantern aside and seized the face in his hands, Shaol placed his thumbs on the eyes of the thing and started to push into the cavity. He heard it scream and Shaol was happy.

"Stop," something screamed from beyond the world where there was only Shaol and the other.

"Nothing comes from this," came Friend's stern voice.

Shaol was back in the hallway, Aksit's head bloodied in his hand. Shaol looked around for the burning yellow eyes, but there was only Revra looking down at him.

"He's at the guardhouse," yelled Revra from door, "Aksit, stop. Shaol, please no more."

Shaol let go of the Master, Aksit fell back to the ground panting and defeated, blood had started to flow from his eyes.

Shaol look at Revra wrapped in the bed sheet.

"Where's the guardhouse?"

"At the inner gate, next to the water station."

"Get him up, into the cellar."

Shaol stepped back and watched as Revra got her husband up from underneath the heavy cabinet. As Aksit lifted his head, beyond the broken face, Shaol saw the poison thoughts burning away at the Master from the inside.

Shaol turned away and went into the bedroom.

Helped by his wife, Aksit limped broken and naked to the cellar. Shaol locked them in and returned to the bedroom with two leather bags from the kitchen. There was fabric here. Grey fabric. It was not rough like the cloaks of the Grey Men, but it would do. He filled them with grey and also the white cloth from the cupboards and windows.

When the bags were full, Shaol went back to the ground floor and peered out the window of the front room. The street beyond had becoming obscured by the rising mist, now at waist height, the street lanterns burnt brighter than before, still sparking and hissing as the their flames danced large and green.

Shaol brushed the small flecks of glass from his shirt and put it back on, his back screamed as the leather made contact with cuts he had taken from the mirror. Shaol ignored it and turned his attention to the streets.

The city was still empty, he could get to the guardhouse but then Shaol shook his head at the thought of entering the guardhouse alone. The guards would run him through with their swords the moment he entered, unless he could find some armour for himself. There were always guards who watched the inner gate, the Masters would never leave it unattended, he would just wait for one to be alone then he could take the armour he needed.

Shaol felt his nose throb under the skin, it was broken but he would fix it later. His ribs ached a deep and low pain, it too would need rest, but not until Pysuun was safe.

The bags of fabric were thrown in the corner of the room and the front door was unlocked, Shaol stepped across the salt scattered at the doorway and made his way through the streets towards the inner gate.

The guardhouse passed and Shaol thought of Pysuun as looked at the stone walls of the building, the large doors in front were closed and unguarded.

Shaol came to the inner gate, beyond sat the brick buildings Shaol knew well, made green in the strange light. There were no guards here either, the gate was lowered, the Master had left the inner gate unguarded. Then he saw the water tanks still sat in the shed next to the barracks, the caravan had not that morning as it must every morning. Braziers next to the inner gate burnt on each side of the closed gate giving off the same unnatural light.

The streets had been abandoned. The Masters hid in their stone buildings. The moon now lit the city with a green light that seemed to invade even the deepest shadow. Shaol had ignored the mist for as long as he could. Aksit's house was his until morning. He should return there and wait out this mist and the green light that came with it. But Pysuun still sat in the guardhouse, tomorrow may be too late for him.

Shaol felt the cold chain in his pocket, he wondered for a moment where Friend had gone and then he turned and headed back to the guardhouse, he could not leave Pysuun to the mercy of the Masters, he was the only one who could save his friend and it must be tonight.

The guardhouse stood silent in the mist, its stone walls reflected the strange green. The few windows that looked into front room had been shuttered. Shaol got close and saw orange light leak between the gaps, large shadows moved beyond the metal slates. Past the main doors was an alley with another small door leading into the back. Shaol approach the small door, listened and heard nothing, he turned the handle and it opened.

The back room was full of cots set up for the guards. One was occupied, next to it sat a discarded set of armour, a sword lent against the wall next to it. Beyond the cots, an open door led to the front room, within sat a handful of guards, some sat at tables, others paced the large room, one paced the room with his sword drawn but lose in his hand. They all fidgeted with different objects as they silently waited out the night.

Shaol crossed the room and took the sword from the wall. He had never used a blade before and it felt wrong in his hand, but it killed quicker than his bare hands and that was what he needed now.

Shaol put his hand over the guards mouth and held the blade to his throat. The guard squirmed and woke.

"Quiet," hissed Shaol, "or I'll cut."

The guard lay still.

"I want the Under, Pysuun," explained Shaol quietly, "he's in the guardhouse, you will have the guards bring him to me and I'll not kill you. Do you understand?"

The guard nodded from under the hand. Shaol let the guard's mouth go and kept the blade firmly against pointed at the throat.

"Stand," whispered Shaol.

The guard swung off the cot and stood up. Shaol moved around to the guard's back and place blade between his shoulders.

"Into the room."

The guard stepped forward into bright light of the front room.

"What?" called the guard who was been pacing with the drawn sword, then he saw Shaol behind and it became strong in his hand.

"Hold, Azga," shouted another in a different type of armour, "what do you want, Under?"

"The Under that belonged to Aksit," said Shaol, "he'll come with me."

"Get the Under from the last cell."

The room was quite and still as the guards watched Shaol.

"You think you're a clever one, ha," spat one guard.

Shaol did not respond focused on the sword pressed he held at the guards back.

A guard returned with Pysuun followed, heavy chains retrained his hands.

"Remove the chains," ordered Shaol.

The guard nodded and the chains were removed. They clanked the ground and Pysuun crossed the floor as the guards kept their eyes trained on Shaol.

"You won't escape tonight," hissed the same guard that had spoken before, "I'll have you both hung by midday."

"Stay where you are," said Shaol ignoring the threat, "Pysuun, get the backdoor."

Pysuun went to the backdoor and opened it. The mist had now become as high as the door, the moonlight pierced through and made the world outside glow. Shaol brought the guard back towards the door and when he was only a few feet from it Shaol looked at Pysuun.

"Run."

The two ran through the door into the alley and after a few turns the pair found themselves in the street that ran along the inner wall, it was now shrouded in thick mist. They heard a door of the guardhouse slam shut somewhere beyond the green veil. Shaol felt something grab him.

"Shaol," came Pysuun's voice, "what is going on?"

"I don't know, but you're safe, that's what matters."

"We have to get out of the city, they'll find us tomorrow if we stay."

"The gates are shut. We're here til morning."

"Why is the fog green?" asked Pysuun to himself.

"Something's wrong," replied Shaol not sure himself, "I think we need to be indoors."

"Where?"

"Aksit's house. We can hide there til this passes."

"What about Aksit?"

"The house is safe," said Shaol.

Chapter 10

Shaol and Pysuun hurried through the mist toward the Aksit's house, disturbing the gentle, green strands that hung in the air as they went. The shroud made the streets more confusing than they usually were, but they were able to find enough landmarks to make their way through the city.

As the pair turned into a street, Shaol saw something wrong at the end of a street. A light of white and brown that danced through the mist. It lit something, it was a street lantern but then it was something else. It was a tree with leaves like one he had seen on the way to the lake, then it was a lantern again, then the light was gone and there was nothing but the mist and stone buildings.

"Something's ahead," said Shaol nervously, "we need to find another way."

"Follow me," whispered Pysuun.

Shaol did not turn his head from the place where he had seen the tree appear as they doubled back down the street, if the light would come down the street towards them he wanted to see it approach.

Pysuun cursed and stopped in front, Shaol collide with the large body.

"There was a horse, did you see it?"

Shaol looked up the street, he saw the mist was kicked up and swirled as if something had travelled through it at great speed.

"It was galloping down the street, someone was riding it."

There was a small gap in the buildings.

"This way," said Shaol.

"That's the wrong way," said Pysuun his voice stressed.

"We're being surround by something, we need to keep away from it."

"If we are being surrounded we need to get inside," said Pysuun and the point at a window in the front of a house, "there."

"We don't know who lives there or how many?"

"I would rather fight five men with bodies than spirits in a mist."

Shaol nodded, he would prefer that as well. Shaol did not bother with his shirt, he simply put his elbow through the window and the glass shattered. He brushed the shard away from the sill.

"You first," Shaol called.

Shaol pushed Pysuun up and through the window, when Pysuun was through the window, Shaol grabbed the sill and pulled himself in as he did he felt something move in chest. He looked at his hand, blood flowed from a handful of tiny cuts.

"This must be the Demon," said Pysuun looking out the window at the green mist that hung, "the Mistress was in a panic this morning when she heard a Demon was seen. That was when they discovered you were missing."

Mist started to float into the room through the broken window.

"It's not a demon," said Shaol catching his breath, "I don't know what this is."

"Did you see the Clerics?" asked Pysuun.

"Yes, we have a way out."

"Then, why did you come for me?" said Pysuun suddenly angry.

"Your son needs a father."

"He needs to free of this city. I'm not important, Shaol, you should have left me. The gate is probably unguarded tonight with this mist."

"I'll not leave you. I'll not leave your son," replied Shaol matching the anger.

"You'll leave me for my son," growled Pysuun, "I demand it, I do not want you to risk his freedom for me."

"I won't," yelled Shaol, "that's what I demand."

There was a moment between the two.

"We have to get back to the Aksit's house," said Shaol quietly, but the anger was still in his voice, "we need the fabric from his house."

Something moved in the mists beyond the window, the form was not fleeting or quick. It was solid and slow. The form was nothing, made only of the fog it displaced. It had something like legs that held a body. It had something that could be arms, which hung lazily at its side.

The thing turned and, if it had a face, it was watching Shaol and Pysuun argue in the dark room. Mist continued to flow through the broken window. A lantern on the wall came to life, casting a green light across the stone and metal furniture that had been squeezed into the small space.

"What do we do?" asked Pysuun looking at the empty form that watched them.

"Run."

The house was laid out much like the one owned by Aksit, there was a door which must lead through to kitchen. It was locked. A lantern in the hall came to life.

Pysuun and Shaol ran up the stairs to the next level, there was only one level to the house, two doors led off into the rooms. Shaol tried the first door, it was locked. pushed tried the second, it was open and he pushed into the bedroom. The two Masters jumped up from under the leather and fur sheet.

"You're in danger," shouted Shaol, "the Demon is coming."

"Children," shouted the Mistress and grabbed the keys that sat on a stone pillar next to the bed.

The Masters pushed passed the intruders, ignoring them, now focused on saving their children from the thing in the fog.

There was a window on the far wall. Shaol went to it and threw open the wooden shutters, the green mist danced beyond the glass surface. Shaol opened the window and looked out, the mist started to fall into the room. He looked out, there was an alley below but it was no longer made of stone, instead it was a long strip of soft green grass.

Pysuun pushed to the window and looked out.

"We can jump," he barked.

Shaol could hear the sounds of Masters fleeing towards the front door as pulled himself up onto the window sill. Shaol's head swam as he realised what he needed to do, he never liked being high off the ground, then a woman screamed.

"Go," yelled Pysuun.

Shaol pushed from the window and hit then he hit the ground with a hard thud and a force went through his entire body. He lost his breath and stumbled forward his hands and the cold stone, the grass was gone.

Shaol recovered and looked up, Pysuun's large form was in the window. Pysuun pushed away, his legs caught on the wall and he fell, hard, to the ground. Pysuun lay on the ground coughing.

"I'm...," he spluttered as Shaol went to help him up.

Pysuun staggered as he pulled himself up.

"This way to Aksit's house," he panted,

Green light filled the window above their heads and the pair raced through the street.

"Something is moving ahead," panted Pysuun.

"Keep going," yelled Shaol, "we can't stay in this."

After a few more turns the pair were looking onto the street that led the way to Aksit's house, the green lanterns crackled and sparked with the energy. There were five formless, figures which slowly paced the street. There was no logic to their movement, they just seemed restless and lost.

"They are away from Aksit's," said Pysuun quietly, "is the front door locked?"

"No," whispered Shaol.

"We can get there without them seeing us. They seem more interested with the other part the street."

Shaol did not like that plan, but he did not have a better one, they could not stay in this fog.

"You're faster, so I'll go first," said Pysuun, "after I have the door open, you move next, stay low and quiet. If anything goes wrong, don't come for me."

Before Shaol could respond Pysuun had pushed himself into the street. The figures continued to wander aimlessly, their missing faces stayed fixed to the other alleys. Pysuun, crouched and low, moved up the street, passed the handful of houses to the front door of the one they needed, the formless creatures did not notice him.

Pysuun pushed open the door and signalled to Shaol to move. Shaol stepped from the alley, keeping himself low, he crept forward. Suddenly, the figures spun their heads and they found Shaol crouched in the mist.

"Get in," shouted Pysuun, his voice echoed off the buildings.

Shaol was running, fast as he could manage, his boots crashed against the stone of street. He reached the door and he looked back, the figures started to slowly wander up the street towards the house, then Shaol saw something bright and green appear at the far end of the street.

Shaol was in the house and he slammed the heavy door shut behind him. He was panting wildly as he looked down the small corridor, Pysuun stood in the thick mist. The kitchen door was open and the back window had been broken earlier that night.

"The children's room," stuttered Shaol as the realisation took his thoughts.

Pysuun was going up the stairs.

"Keys," Shaol shouted and Pysuun turned back.

Shaol found the could metal ring his pocket and tossed it too Pysuun.

Pysuun was gone, Shaol started to follow when there was a bright, green face in the kitchen doorway, it had no body, only green claws that floated in front of it. Shaol cursed in fright at the horrid thing and was up the stairs.

Pysuun was at the first door fumbling with the lock. It quietly clinked and he was through into the room. Shaol was at the top of the stairs when he felt something scratch into his leg, he fell forward.

Shaol screamed for help. The door was open in front of him. Pysuun grabbed him and pulled him in. The room was gone.

A plain lay before Shaol, hills in the distance, all made silver by the moonlight. Grass, tall and strong, grew across the empty land, where the city should have stood sat three squat pyramids. They gave off something that took Shaol's mind and he filled with a strange drumming that was solid and low. The sides of the structures sparked with white energy on top of the centre temple a single, powerful light shot from the roof and went high into the void of the night sky.

Shaol looked behind, in distance he saw campfires burning before large, leather tents lit by the large, orange flames.

The city started to come back, stone by stone. The fortress and its black walls came and swallowed the temple at great speed, and then the city rebuilt itself as he had always know it.

Shaol was in the room and he being dragged by Pysuun, the green face and its claws were at the door, but it did not enter. Pysuun slammed the door shut. Blood was running down Shaol's leg from where the beast had caught him. The mist that had fallen through the door started to settle on the floor.

A whimpering came from the corner, it was the youngest son of Aksit, Torta. He cowered away from the Unders who had stormed into his room and had brought the terrifying face.

"Quiet, Torta," snapped Pysuun, "you're safe."

The two caught their breath, both stunned into silence. Shaol grabbed the boy's bed sheet and tore at them with his teeth, making the fine fabric into a bandage for his leg.

Then, the face was beyond the multicoloured glass of the child's bedroom window, floating in the mist high above the ground. Torta yelped.

"What is it doing?" asked Shaol as he wrapped his leg.

"Watching," said Pysuun, "that must be the Demon."

"Raphtune says there are no demons here."

"What do you call that?"

"I would call it a Demon."

"Then, it's a Demon."

"But they were after me."

"You must feel honoured," said Pysuun slumping onto the bed.

"It's Zeria," said Torta from the corner.

"A god is not stopped by a pane of glass," sighed Pysuun, exhausted and confused.

"The Clerics called Zeria to help us with the Demon," whispered Torta, "that's why everyone had to stay inside tonight. Father said."

"No, Raphtune was sure there were no more Demons," said Shaol finding a new meaning in the words, "they just saw something... the Masters saw Friend..."

Shaol pulled the cold, chain from his pocket and Shaol looked at the stone. The face at the window sill started hissed and swirled in the miss and Friend was in room with them.

"Up," she barked and vanished.

"Who is your friend, Shaol?"

"I don't know."

Raphtune had been right again, he had been a stupid bastard. The green face at window was gone.

"It will return," said Pysuun, "and I don't think this window will help us when it does."

"Do we go?"

"The only question I have is, do you trust it will give us what we want?"

"She will," said Shaol, he knew this.

"Then we go up," said Pysuun, "whatever it wants, I hope it uses the box to burn this damn city to ground."

The boy in corner gasped, Pysuun remembered he was still in the room.

"You heard nothing, boy," said Pysuun with a hard voice, "or our Demon will be back for you."

The boys jaw dropped and he fell silent.

"The roof," said Shaol.

Pysuun nodded and moved to the door.

"The children can't stay here," said Shaol, "if the things in the mist are hunting us, they may not be get to anyone they find here."

"I don't care," said Pysuun angrily.

"Take the keys we need to get to the roof," ordered Shaol.

Pysuun growled to himself and started to remove a key from the key ring. Shaol turned to to the Torta.

"You have to get everyone out of house," said Shaol slowly to the boy, "Aksit's in the cellar with the others. Get your brothers and sisters and get into another house, they're doors are all locked so you need to be fast as you can be, you cannot wait or the green thing will find you."

The boy nodded and started to weep.

"You need to be strong, boy," said Shaol, "like your father."

The boy nodded and wiped his nose.

"I've got the keys," snapped Pysuun.

Shaol took the key ring and handed it to Torta.

"Remember, you heard nothing tonight," said Shaol, "our Demon is powerful and will not be kind to you if you tell anyone."

Torta nodded.

"Pysuun, give me the key to the roof. You need to go into the small room at the entrance and get the leather bags of cloth."

"Forget it, if we are alive by sunrise we'll get the bags then."

"Open the door then, I'll follow."

The door opened and the formless beings were in the hallway. The boy at the back of the room gave a cry of horror at the sight. The beings watched Shaol, but did not move. The mist started to fall into the room.

Pysuun ran through the empty forms causing the mist to swirl around them, the beings did not respond, they stayed focused on Shaol. Shaol put the chain and stone back into his pocket.

"They won't harm you," yelled Shaol to the boy who was backing away from the door, "get everyone out of the house, don't stop."

Shaol ran into the mist, the formless things did not move, they only watched. The corridor air was heavy and moist. The green light of the lantern on the wall invaded every shadow in the space as Shaol hurried up the stairs he could hear Pysuun running along the hallway above. Then he heard Torta behind him.

"Yasin, follow, hurry," the boy barked at his brother mimicking his father.

Another set of the stairs, Shaol looked behind, the green face was not there. Above, Shaol heard Pysuun crash into the wooden cabinet that had been moved. Shaol came up the stairs as he saw the outline of Pysuun limping down the corridor and then he disappeared up next set of stairs. The mist was becoming thinner as they climbed.

Shaol climbed over the cabinet and found the stairs and made his way to the next floor and then the next. He climbed the stairs and was on the top level, the large, open room were Aksit held the feasts after he returned from the field. The many trophies of his conquests which hung on the walls were obscured by the thin green mist. The lanterns burnt here as well, crackling and spitting fiercely.

Pysuun was at a door on the far wall. Shaol ran towards him. Pysuun cursed. Shaol turned an saw another green face, this one had a solid body wrapped in cloth. Shaol was through the door and he slammed it behind him.

Shaol stood on the metal platform that hung from the outside of the building, he quickly climbed the steps to the flat roof. Shaol was panting as he saw the large form of Pysuun standing alone on the far side of roof looking over the edge.

"Shaol," called Friend from behind.

Shaol spun around and saw the large bird-woman her yellow eyes cutting through in the mist. Over her shoulder passed her wings a green face rose above the edge of the roof, its claws trailed behind.

"Throw the stone to the corner of the roof," shouted Friend pointing.

Pysuun cursed again as the panic took him. Shaol grabbed the stone from his pocket and threw it, the thing clinked as it skittered across the rough surface. The green face turned and tracked it through the chain through the mist.

"Take off the bandage," ordered Friend.

Shaol did not question her. He tore the bandage from his wound, it ripped the drying blood from his skinned. Blood started to flow freely and pool beneath his foot. There was something in the mist with them, something which danced but Shaol was to panicked to find it.

The green face turned from the stone and was again focused on Shaol.

"Get back," shouted Friend.

Shaol jumped away from Friend leaving a trail of blood as he went. Something white and fast emerged from the pool of blood and shot through the mist at the beast. Before he could comprehend what was happening, the green face screamed and howled became nothing.

"Get the stone," commanded Friend.

Shaol ran across the roof and scooped up the stone. As he did he felt the roof start to tremble underfoot. He looked back at Friend and something was coming from the second pool of blood where he had just stood, a small tree started to grow from it.

The roots of the tree dug into the roof and started to crack the stone. The building rocked violently, the tree sprung up and branches with leaves exploded into life as the stones underfoot began to slide as the roots continued to break apart the roof.

"Up into the tree, before the roof comes down," barked Friend.

Pysuun ran from his side of the roof and started to climb the tree, Shaol did the same. The branches cracked and grew around them, forming the ladders they needed to climb higher.

"Keep going, the mist clears soon," came the voice of Friend from somewhere.

There was a great crash from below as the roof slid from the house and crashed to the surrounding buildings and the street.

Shaol kept climbing, soon the mist cleared and he found himself on a branch high above the city, now buried in a sea of green. Shaol looked up at the moon which gave off its natural silver colour again. Pysuun emerged from the large green leaves of the tree and found a sturdy branch next to Shaol.

Shaol nodded at Pysuun and he simply nodded back, both exhausted, safe and lost for words.

Shaol turned and surveyed the city. A few building near the inner wall stuck up out of the mist but the rest were lost below the fog. The fortress watched from above, green flames danced on the top of the eight towers. The black wall was still higher than the branch Shaol found himself sitting on, the secret of fortress where kept well protected.

Then, the vision of the pyramids in the field came back to Shaol. The three temples could easily sit behind those black walls, just as Friend had said.

"You will be safe here until the morning comes," said Friend who was now perched on a branch next to Pysuun, "this magic cannot reach above the mists."

"What are you?" asked Pysuun.

"I'm the one who will free you," replied Friend flatly.

"Are you a Demon?" asked Pysuun.

"Does that matter to you?"

Pysuun went quiet.

In the moonlight, Friend could be seen clearly. She had the face of old, bald woman with rosy skin, two thin, pale yellow horns protruded from her forehead and then swept up and over her head then down to her shoulders where her two large wings grew, both were covered by a mix of brown and golden feathers. She wore polished silver armour that sparked in the moonlight, her legs and arms resembled that of a mountain cat or a dog, but not quite either.

"Why didn't you help us earlier?" asked Shaol.

"This is not aid, Shaol, this is... There will be consequences for this," said Friend and motioned to the buried city beyond, "this is what happened because I helped you last night. This tree, exposes us even more for what we are."

"What we are?" questioned Shaol to himself.

"The ones who will go under the black wall and take back what is ours."

"Are you a Demon?" asked Shaol, softly repeating Pysuun's question.

"There are no Demons left in the land and the Clerics that have taken the fortress know that. They're not hunting a Demon, they're hunting magic."

"How did they find us?" puzzled Shaol.

"The stone draws them."

Shoal looked at the chain in the moonlight.

"We do not have much time now, we must move quickly," continued Friend, "everyday you wait is another day they have to find you."

"How can we survive another night? Look at what they can do."

"This is the magic of gods, they won't be able to bring these spirits again any day soon, this act will have drained their power. But the Masters do not need magic to hunt you and they will come for you tomorrow."

"How long will the Clerics be drained?" asked Pysuun.

"I don't know. It depends on many things. A week, surely. By then, though, it would be best you're no longer in Tarlnath. They have seen you, they know you and that means they will find you when they have recovered."

"The Grey Men can do all this," said Shaol to himself.

"The Clerics can do many things with the aid of their god. The fortress is not a place men can rule, but the fact Zeria holds it does surprise me."

"Will you save my son when this is done?" asked Pysuun, "or is this a Demon's trick?"

"I am no Demon and I will pay my debt to all that help, but you must make it from the fortress. What lies in the fortress is beyond my reach."

"Hassa is behind the wall," said Shaol.

"Then she must return with you," replied Friend flatly, "I cannot help anyone in that place."

The three sat amongst the soft leaves and watched the city glow beneath the blanket of fog. As the night stretched on the mist started to whirl and froth below the tree and it lurched upwards to keep them safe.

"They are still trying to reach you," said Friend, "do not worry, the tree will hold."

"How does such a tree grow in Gart?" asked Pysuun looking at the leaves on his branch.

"That's a very hard thing to explain," said Friend, "but, put simply, it grows because it has reason too. When the fog lifts and you are safe it will no longer have that reason and it will be gone."

"And then, what do we do?" asked Pysuun to night sky.

"We have the fabric for the cloaks," said Shaol.

"Cloaks?" asked Pysuun.

"A disguise to make us look like the Grey Men," started Shaol and explained the plan that he and Raphtune had devised that afternoon, Pysuun sighed heavily at mention of the boy's name.

"Then we get the bags, I have mended clothes, I should be able to make the cloaks," said Pysuun, "Yor has free run of the meat store, we can hide there. He should be able to get us what he need to make them."

"Raphtune?" asked Shaol.

"If the boy is so clever he will find us."

"When are the goods exchanged?" asked Shaol.

"Should be two days," replied Pysuun.

"Then once your inside you must find the temple, get back to city and escape," said Friend, "you have a week."

The mist swirled below the tree and green light of the mist pulsed.

"What do you seek in temple?" asked Pysuun.

"What is mine, nothing more."

"Why is it important?"

"Because it will take you and your son from this city."

The sun started to turn the horizon purple and the mist over the city started to lose its unnatural colour as the green light receded from the city and crawl back to where the temple sat in the dirt square, Shaol was not surprised.

"You're safe, now," said Friend, "you must be hidden before the fog clears. The Masters won't step outside until the sun has burnt it away."

Pysuun and Shaol descended from the tree and as they did the branches above cracked and snapped as they shrunk back into the trunk.

Aksit's house was barely standing, the roof was shattered and broken, most of it lost in the mist below. The pair dropped themselves onto floor of the ruined trophy room, the precious items made of wood and cloth had been thrown from the building. They made their way down the levels of the still crumbling house, climbing over the broken stone as they went.

The front door was open, the house quiet. Two bodies lay crushed on the floor and one against a wall, they were all too disfigured to distinguish who they had once been. The water room had been destroyed, the barrels had exploded, water and blood mixed together in shallow pools across the ruined floor.

The back door was blocked by a piece of the roof, forcing Shaol and Pysuun to climb over the debris in the street in front. The pair disappeared into the grey mist with the bags of fabric slung over their shoulders.

Chapter 11

The shirt pulled the loose fresh away from the wound in Shaol's shoulder. He tried not to reopen the cut but the leather and skin were bonded tight and the wound started to weep. He grabbed at the small piece of white cloth, which Pysuun had cut off from the rest, and held it firm against the wound.

Shaol was exhausted, his head pounded, his nose throbbed, his chest ached. The adrenaline from the night was gone and all that was left was a body that had been pushed too far.

Pysuun crouched in front of Shaol and inspected his face.

"Hold still," said Pysuun taking Shaol's misshapen nose between in fingers.

There was a swift movement, a crack and then a pain that caused Shaol to tumble from the stool and onto the dirt floor. He swallowed the scream, the brick walls of meat store were thin and anyone passing outside would hear him.

Pysuun helped Shaol back onto the stool and brought over a bucket of milk and another piece of fabric. Shaol wet the cloth and started to wash the dried blood from his face, it felt swollen and wrong.

"You look like death," said Pysuun as he pulled the grey cloth from the leather bags.

"I feel like death," replied Shaol.

Shaol's nose sung every time the rag came close, but the short, sharp pain was a pleasant distraction from the deep ache at the bottom of his chest.

Pysuun smoothed the grey curtain across the floor.

"Do we have enough?" asked Shaol.

"Enough for two or three, I think," said Pysuun his voice slightly nervous.

Yor had managed to get them the supplies they needed from a nearby storehouse. A sharp pair of scissors, normally used for slicing through leather, a piece of white chalk to mark a pattern and some thick leather twine to bring the pieces together.

"I've never done this before," said Pysuun looking at the pieces of cloth, "I can mend shirts and trousers, but this..."

Shaol sat quietly and continued to wipe his face, he knew nothing about making clothes. He looked down the rows of curing meat that hung from the large, jagged hooks. He had collide with one of heavy carcasses that morning when he first entered the store and the weight had tumbled down on top of him. Shaol had been able to awkwardly grab the lump and kept it from crashing into the others long enough for Pysuun to hold the other side steady and hook it back onto the railing above.

Pysuun cut the air with the large blades of the scissors.

"I think," he started, "I cut out a rectangle and we wrap it around our bodies, then a triangle goes over the head to a point."

Pysuun looked at Shaol who returned a blank stare.

"We need sleeves," said Pysuun.

"Yes," agreed Shaol as he remembered the sleeves of the cloak that had come close to the green fire when the Grey Men had made the water safe.

"How do we connect them?"

Shaol shrugged.

"I can't do this," said Pysuun, "we'll just ruin the fabric."

"The fabric's no good to us if you can't make the cloaks."

Shaol rinsed the cloth in the milk which was slowly turning pink.

"We can take the fabric into the fortress, we can fashion it when we have more time," said Pysuun.

"If you can't make them now, you won't be able to make later," said Shaol quietly.

Pysuun nodded to himself and looked at the cloth for a moment then, without another word, he knelt on to the ground and cut into the fabric. Shaol started to clean the gash in the back of his leg.

Shaol remembered the vision he had seen after the creature had struck him. The temple furthest from him had the light, it had to be the scared light Friend had spoken of that was where he must go.

Friend knew the temple was there, she had called it by its name. She had known Tarlnath when there were leather tents instead of stone and grass had grown where, now, there was nothing but dirt. Could a Demon live so long? Shaol knew nothing of Demons except for the strange curses the Masters would use when the sled broke without explanation or the times an Under would turn sour and attack the others without fear of what would happen to him. It was a Demon that had taken him was what the Masters would say, but Shaol knew what had real taken the Old Ones.

Until yesterday, Shaol had never thought that Demon's could be real creatures but both Raphtune and Pysuun had talked as though they were indeed something that walked the lands beyond the city. Had he brought one into the city? Friend had denied it, said it was magic that the Grey Men sought, but Shaol still did not know who or what Friend was.

It did not matter, thought Shaol as he pushed away the sudden doubt in his friend, Pysuun would be a father again, the seven would be free and then, when it was done, Shaol would go home to the lake that he missed. Whatever Friend was, she must have been very powerful to live all these years and that meant was she could do as she promised.

Shaol wondered, how long ago it had been since Friend had walked the green plains of Tarlnath. There were no memories in Tarlnath, the Masters never kept books about the past or spoke of things that had gone before. The Masters never spoke about anything except what was immediately in front of them.

Shaol felt his body slump in the stool. He wanted to sleep for a hundred years, but he only had a few days before the Grey Men would come for him, the Masters hunted him in the streets of the city, he would sleep when it was done.

Shaol picked up the pot of white paste that Yor had brought him, a sticky material that could seal the cut in his leg. He took a small amount on his finger tip and smeared it into the first cut on his leg and hissed as the paste burnt its way into the flesh.

Tarlnath was a dead land which had once lived. Why had the Masters stayed? Was it true what Raphtune had said? Were the Masters so low that it was the only land they could hold? He had never thought of the Masters as anymore than the ones who must be obeyed. Shaol knew there were other lands, but he had never thought of these lands as anything but the homes the kids remembered until the memories became fuzzy and lost, never as the homes of others that kept the Masters caged, caged to do nothing but serve the Grey Men.

There had been so much he had learnt since he was taken from the caravan and given to Aksit. Shaol looked at the tattoo on his arm and he thought of the ruin he had brought to the Master and then the regret came, cutting deep and painfully.

Shaol wished it had not come to that, he wished he had found Pysuun safely in the cellar, he wished Aksit had not tried to fight him, he wished he was able to walk under the black wall and take what he needed, but that was not the way of the city.

Shaol smeared the paste into the second gash.

The city had done this to them. It had forced them together, it had held them within its walls and it had made them all desperate. Could Friend take everyone from this place, leave the damned fortress and its Grey Men to watch over their dead plains? There would be no need for Unders or Masters if the poison lands of Gart were left to rot.

Shaol felt the anger build in him as he thought on it and then he gritted his teeth, pushed the thoughts away and looked down at the cuts in his leg. The final cut was less severe than the others. Once it was done, Shaol looked up at Pysuun who was now standing over the fabric shaking his head.

Shaol did not want to interrupt, he could not help nor did he want too. Either, Pysuun would be able to make cloaks or he would take them.

Shaol turned his attention to the cuts in his shoulder. He was tired of his thoughts and the endless questions. He did not want to think on them anymore, he longed for the life where he took water from the lake and placed it in the tanks. Friend would dance beneath the water, with her bright yellow eyes and tell him ridiculous stories about fish and animals that lived at the bottom of the lake and he would tell her about the trees on the way to the lake, the young ones who had been brought to caravan, the Old Ones he had fought back the night before. The days would pass them and Shaol would let them go without concern.

Pysuun wrapped himself in a rectangle of fabric, he did not look like a Grey Man.

"Two holes here and here for the arms," said Pysuun looking at Shaol.

Shaol did not say anything.

"This is ridiculous," said Pysuun throwing the cloth to the floor, "I'm not a tailor."

"No," said Shaol nod.

"Maybe... if the guards are blind," laughed Pysuun.

"We will take the cloaks, then," said Shaol simply.

"From where?"

"The Grey Men. Once we are in the fortress we will take them."

Pysuun suddenly looked concerned.

"Let me try again," he said grabbing the rectangle off the ground and started wrapping it around his body,

Shaol looked down at the milk and blood which swam in the bucket between his feet. He saw the Grey Men dead beneath him, he needed their cloaks to the save the seven.

Shaol smeared the paste on the last cut of shoulder.

Pysuun, Horsuun, Jarga, Yor, Hassa, Cutter, Rag, these Shaol knew but he would take more. There was many more trapped here and he was not going to leave them. Aksit, Revra, Torta, Faun, his Old Master, he would take them all away from this city.

Shaol put down the paste and found the chain in his pocket. He slid the small links between his fingers.

How many could Friend save? She never gave a number, any that helped was all she said. He took the chain out of his pocket and studied the stone, it was dark brown with orange flecks. He looked at the surface which perfectly reflected the meat store and his swollen face, he had never noticed how smooth the surface of the stone was.

Shaol felt himself slip away from his body. He was beside the lake and the sun sat bright in the sky. The blue water sparkled in the early morning sun, far in the distant, the shadows of several dozen Unders gathered the water from the lake.

The grit of the floor was pressed against Shaol's cheek, he was sprawled out beside the stool, he slowly realised he had fallen asleep. He grabbed the chain that had fallen from his hand and slid it back into his pocket.

"I need to rest," said Shaol as he picked himself up from the floor.

Pysuun now had a cut of the fabric hung over his head.

"You sleep, I'll keep at this."

Shaol laid himself on the floor, closed his eyes and darkness came over him, for a time there was no pain in his body.

A cut of meat hung above Shaol's head. He sat up, his ribs still hurt as he moved, but he felt rested. Pysuun had something over his head. Fabric went, strangely, down his body and hid his legs, there were no sleeves, there were no shoulders, he did not look like a Grey Man.

"It was the best I could do," sighed Pysuun.

"And there is only one," replied Shaol.

"I could make another."

"I don't think we need another."

"No," said Pysuun annoyed.

"It was good to try," said Shaol, "but we have lost nothing. The Grey Men will give us their cloaks."

The door to the meat shed flew open, Yor was in the doorway.

"You must go," he hissed, "the Masters are closing down the quarter, they are searching every building."

Shaol pulled himself from the ground.

"Leave everything," ordered Shaol and turned to Yor, "destroy it all."

"Where can we go?" asked Pysuun.

"We can't stay here," replied Shaol, "Yor, we'll return tomorrow for the run."

"They'll hunt you til they find you," said Yor shaking his head.

"You won't help then?" challenged Pysuun.

"There's nothing to help with," snapped Yor, "it's a fool's idea, no one leaves this city. I don't know how I let you talk me into this."

"Rot in your damn shed," growled Pysuun.

"Yor, do you want leave?" said Shaol stepping forward.

"Of course, I do," hissed Yor, "but there's no way out."

"I'll take you home, Yor," said Shaol looking into his eyes, "but I need your wagon."

Yor sighed and studied Shaol.

"Not tomorrow," Yor said quickly.

"Tomorrow, if it's safe," said Shaol calmly.

"We're all dead, if you're caught here, including the children."

"Tomorrow, if it is safe."

"You need to be here before dawn," growled Yor, "but don't risk our lives."

"I won't."

Yor led Shaol and Pysuun to the back door that led into the dirt streets of the outer city. The road was wide and bright, people milled around giving the two cover to escape down the street.

"Everyone in doors," shouted a voice from around the corner of a building, "the streets are to be empty."

Shaol and Pysuun slipped into a dirt alley between two buildings as the others around them started to empty the streets without objection. The pair made their way down an alley to the far end, Shaol looked out and saw a group of guards approaching up the street they needed to cross. They fell back and went back the way they came. As Shaol stuck his head out of the alley, another group of guards started to round the corner of the meat store and wander towards them, the pair was surrounded.

Pysuun and Shaol looked at each other. There was a window to a workshop they could climb through but there was not enough time.

"Say you have a message for Battlemaster Galdra," came the voice of Friend and then she was gone.

Pysuun looked at Shaol.

"We're done, aren't we?" said Pysuun simply.

"Stay here," said Shaol and handed Pysuun the chain, "I'll distract the guards, you..."

"I'll see this through to the end," said Pysuun angrily and pushed the chain away.

"Your son," snapped Shaol.

"We free him together."

Shaol was quiet for a moment and then nodded, looked at his friend and a smile came to his face. The pair walked out of the alley and the guards looked upon the two.

"Hold," shouted one.

"I think... it's them," stammered another.

"We have a message for Battlemaster Galdra," called Shaol

"From who?" asked the guard as he approached, sword drawn.

"The Demon."

Chapter 12

Shaol woke with the water caravan, soon the sun would rise and the goods would be delivered to the gate and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The cage was just large enough for Shaol to sit in with his legs bent, his back pressed hard against the wet, stone wall behind. Through the bars he could see nothing but a wall lit by the one lantern further down the passage.

Pysuun had fallen quiet in the next cage.

"We will free, Horsuun," Pysuun had said before the silence.

"It won't end until he is free," Shaol lied.

Shaol gripped the chain and stone in his pocket. It had ended and he had failed those he was here to protect. The guards may have gone to find the Battlemaster, they may have just left them rot. Whatever had happened it was done, way one or another he would be dead like he should have been many months earlier when his body had given up.

But now Pysuun had paid for this foolishness. He had found a peace as the head of a house under Aksit, until Shaol had brought the poisonous thoughts of his lost son and the stupid promise that he could be a father again.

Shaol harden his gaze on the crack that marched up the wall, he did not want it to end here. He wanted to go into the fortress and bring back Hassa, he wanted to take Cutter and Rag home, he wanted so many things but these were thoughts of the ones that did not know this city as he did.

Shaol hung his head and let the time pass him.

The door at the end of the hall opened and a strong, light poured into the space casting two long shadows. The sound of boots approached, calm and steady, and then stopped in front of Pysuun's cage.

"Is this the one with the message?" came a low voice.

"I have the message," said Shaol using the bars to pull himself from the floor.

"Shoot this one," said the voice.

There was a hard clank, a snap and then Pysuun drew a harsh breath. The Master was in front of Shaol's cage dressed in dull armour and heavy, brown cape made of fur covered his shoulders.

"Speak," commanded the Master.

"You must let us leave the city or the Masters will pay."

The Master looked at for a moment at Shaol, studying him.

"Where's your Demon?"

"She is with us."

"The other lies bleeding and yet your Demon hides."

"She will come, ask Aksit what she can do."

"Shoot him."

An crossbow was between the bars, a bolt hit Shaol in the side and he fell back against the wall.

"Zeria protects us," said the Master softly, "and she is more powerful than any you know."

"You're nothing in dead city with your worthless god," cursed Pysuun.

The Master watched Shaol as blood started to stain his shirt, the Master's face twitched and the Master turned from the cage.

"Gather everyone who has seen these two, you will say nothing of this to anyone."

"What about the Demon?" asked the other nervously.

"Do as I say."

The boots became distant and Shaol held the bolt lodged in his body, his hands becoming slippery with blood.

"Pysuun," called Shaol to the wall.

"She'll save Horsuun," Pysuun's weak voice came from the cell.

"He will be safe."

"I don't regret this... it was already gone."

Pysuun did not speak again.

Shaol gritted his teeth, his vision start to blur and sank to the ground.

"This is not the end for you, Shaol" said Friend from beyond the bars.

"Free us," whispered Shaol, "hurry."

"They will take you from this place."

"Dead."

"No, because you still want to live."

"Break the bars."

"We don't need to the break the bars, they will take you from this place. You need to remove the bolt."

"Help me."

Shaol's head started to become heavy.

"Listen to the song, Shaol. You can hear it."

Shaol did not want to listen to the song, the metal moved in his flesh.

"Listen to the blood, Shaol, if you want to live you must focus."

Shaol pulled himself back from the edge of the world and did as he was commanded. A distant song swam in the cage around him as it rose from the blood, it danced up towards the sky and as it went it did not follow a path, the notes did not come when they should, there was no pattern or rhythm, it was nothing but a swirl of sounds.

"Can you hear it?"

"What is it?"

"A song that sings because it must. The song for what needs to be done. Do you know what needs to be done?"

The metal, he needed to remove the bolt.

"I can't pull out the bolt," muttered Shaol as the song became louder and strong.

"Five trees can grow in the dead lands of Gart, Shaol, so a bolt can be taken from a wound."

A rhythm joined the song, it was not chaotic, it was true and solid but weak and fading.

"How?" asked Shaol.

"You know what must be done, now command the song to do it."

It needed to pull the bolt apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

"If you know you must command the song."

Shaol found the song in the cage around him. He could see its colourless form, he could feel it push against his flesh, he could taste it his mouth, it started to invade his mind and it became heard to focus on anything but the sound. He pushed through the sound trying to find his thoughts.

The bolt needed to be taken apart but he couldn't. The song must because it needed to be done.

The metal of the shaft started to slip away from between Shaol's fingers and then he found there was nothing. Shaol pushed hard against the empty wound in his side and gritted his teeth, the song continued to swirl around him, the taste in mouth became strong and bitter.

"We have the week, Shaol," said Friend and she was gone.

Shaol felt everything start to slip away but he fought to hold onto the world that tried to spin away.

Something was in the cage with him. It was not Pysuun, it was not Friend, it was waiting for him just beyond the edge of the world. He banged his head against the wall, the his head rung and the spectre was gone as he found the pain of the world he was still in.

There was a crack that grew in the wall of the gaol, like a tree that grew in dead lands of Gart, like a the song that rose from his blood, like a fortress that had consumed a scared light.

Chapter 13

The cold body of Pysuun moved beneath Shaol as the wagon was pulled through the dark streets.

The Unders had come for the bodies and had found the them lying in their dry blood. Without words, the two had taken the arms and legs of each, in turn, and carried them from the guardhouse and into the night. Now, the bodies were headed to the place of all those that died in Tarlnath went, the place for the flesh no longer needed.

More bodies were piled on top of Shaol as the wagon continued through the streets. There were six more he needed to save. It was this that stopped him from losing control when the lanterns above the street brought back Pysuun's empty eyes.

The wagon pulled into a shed and the Unders set about the task of moving the bodies into a room with no air, only the putrid, heavy veil of rot which Shaol was forced to breath. He wanted to vomit, but he stilled himself and kept his body limp as he was dumped onto something loose, damp and boney.

After the work was done, the Unders vanished through a door and Shaol was left in the still, quiet room. Shaol went to push himself from the pile but his hand slipped across a face and he fell to the floor pile, a dead arm tumbled across his chest.

Shaol pulled himself up from the ground and looked around him. The room was full of Masters and Unders thrown together in piles, their bodies and limbs entwined, their faces pressed against the cold flesh of the other, waiting for the end together.

Shaol searched the piles for Pysuun, he wanted to see his friend one last time.

The metal bolt was still stuck in Pysuun's gut, his eyes were wide, his face was sad, his clothes stained and ruined with blood. Shaol looked down at the cold body and searched for something to say to the one who had fallen on the way home.

Shaol realised he had no words and closed his friend's eyes.

The Masters had taken another because they had wanted, just as they always did.

In his mind, Shaol saw the twisted face of his first friend and it hurt more than it ever had before. He would have brought here as well. Shaol screamed at himself as he lost control of his thoughts, it was not right, none of this was right.

Horsuun needed him, he would not give in now. It hurt now but tomorrow it would hurt less. He had more to do. He needed to get out this room, there was nothing but the poison thoughts.

Shaol stumbled through the piles to the door and did not look back. He pushed through the door and sound of a thousands claw scratching against metal invaded his ears.

A long hall of pits sat in front of him. A single stone track, stained with skin, flesh and blackened blood, led the way to the door at the far end. Shaol moved himself forward swarms of fur and tails rolled and boiled in the open holes on either side of the path. He saw the faces of those the city was done with, chunks of flesh torn from their faces by a frenzy of snouts and teeth. The rats chattered and chipped, spat and snarled as they went about their task of ending the existence for those fed to city of stone. Shaol reached the far door, opened it and pushed himself through.

The front room was a small space with a few chairs and a table. The windows were dark, except for the light of a lantern that burnt just outside the door, lighting the dirt road in front. There were no guards in front to watch over the dead.

Shaol fell into a chair and put his head into his hands. He felt the wound in his side, it had not reopened but he needed the paste in the storehouse.

Shaol saw red, he saw Pysuun and he wanted to scream again.

"We must keep moving," said Friend calmly as she appeared in the room.

"To where?" spat Shaol and as the anger bubbled inside him, "the gates are guarded, the streets are watched."

"We can do this," said Friend calmly, "this is not the time to rest."

"I need help not your empty words," yelled Shaol.

Friend was quiet.

"How many can you take?" asked Shaol forcefully.

"As many as is needed."

"Take them all. Take them and let Pysuun be the last."

Friend was quiet as she looked at the window at the dirt streets, her wings rustled slightly as she stood.

"This is not the time, Shaol. You must get to the fortress, you must stay focused until it is done. Strength and..."

"Will you take them?" growled Shaol.

Friend was quiet for a moment.

"I cannot do that," replied Friend softly.

"Why not?"

"Who do you want to take, Shaol? I'll take all you can name."

"I want you to take them all."

Friend shook her head in the lantern light.

"I can take as many as you can name."

"Why? If you can take that many, why not the others?"

"Tarlnath must stand," said Friend with a frustration in her voice.

"Why?"

"I'll take the ones you name," repeated Friend her voice becoming stressed.

"But the others will still be here, still trapped."

"As it must be," said Friend.

"Why?"

"The city of stone must be kept to keep this place forgotten."

"No one remembers us," yelled Shaol.

"You're one man, Shaol, you can only do what you can. Tarlnath is more powerful than either of us and it will stand when we are gone."

"How will you free us? If you can take seven, if you can take a hundred, why can't you take them all?"

"It's what I can do, that's all you need know."

"Tell me," Shaol screamed and threw the chair across the room as the anger came forth and made the world spin.

"What has taken you, Shaol?" hissed Friend, "what happened to the one who came to my lake? Have you finally given in and soured after all these years?"

Shaol stopped. Friend looked at him with her burning eyes.

"Are you giving up on those who still need you?" she asked forcefully.

Shaol took a breath. He was exhausted, he was alone and he could feel the rage and frustration inside, turning in him. Shaol had lost his friends, he could not protect them. But he could not give up on those that remained. Pysuun demanded he save his son and he had given all he could, he deserved to have his demands honoured.

Pysuun did not regret what had happened, he was already gone.

Shaol stilled his mind and saw the six that remained. He saw Horsuun as he always did, he looked liked his father. Dark black hair with a round body, his eyes were strong, hard and determined like his father's.

Shaol pushed the visions from his mind, his friend was gone, he was alone but that was the world, that was the city as it was and he knew that.

"How many are enough, Shaol?" asked Friend quietly.

"There aren't enough to make this right," replied Shaol calmly.

"All you can name will be taken from the city."

Shaol stood in the half light and breathed deeply.

"Where do we need to go?" asked Friend.

"Yor can still get us in. We need to get to the meat store."

"How do we get there?"

"People walk the streets every day," said Shaol with no emotion, "they will not be looking for me, I died in a cage. I will walk to the meat store."

"You will need clean clothes."

"The bodies have clothes."

The End

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