Rob Scott - Lessek_s Key

She turned the conversation back to Larion Isle. ‘Was the trip a bust because you two were fighting, or did you get what you needed while you were out there?’

Alen’s brow furrowed. ‘I have been asking myself that question on and off for the past thousand Twinmoons, and I have to say honestly that I don’t know. We wrote the Windscrolls on that trip. Pikan called them that because it had been so rutting windy the entire time we were out there. How anything ever grew on that island was a mystery to me. Anyway, the Windscrolls: there were at least three, spells for protection, deception, destruction, culling minerals from the land, cleansing contaminated water, numbing the body during medical procedures – even killing viral and bacterial infections in people and livestock. The big spells were the first few on the First Windscroll: common-phrase spells for deception, destruction, mining, farming, mass production of goods from raw materials, grand spells we hoped would have a sweeping impact on Eldarn.’

‘Destruction? Deception? And you wanted these to have a worldwide impact?’ Hannah was incredulous. Alen could read it in her face.

‘Clear cutting land for lumber or blasting through bedrock to get at rich veins of ore, that sort of destruction. I suppose you might say they were spells that helped us control the devastation inherent in powerful magic.’

‘And deception?’

‘Similar in a sense to destruction; magic has an enormous capacity to change the way we perceive things. Think about the dog in your parents’ home. You’re convinced that dog was real, but you know the dog was not there. You were deceived by magic. We wrote spells to control that deceptive ability; it helped us continue to work spells in the table without waking the next day believing we were all dancers or professional bellamir players.’ That was the best explanation he could give for the moment.

The tecan arrived and they paused to pour out and sip from the steaming mugs. Hannah inhaled deeply, then asked, ‘So what happened then?’

‘You know the rest. We brought the Windscrolls back to Sandcliff and left for England. There was a common-phrase spell for cleansing contaminated water that Pikan was particularly interested in, so she and I made the research trip to Durham, to study how they handled waste and waste-water. She carried Reia to term, and I did all the work. When we returned, everything was crumbling in Gorsk, and we swore we would get back to England, even if it meant confronting Nerak and perhaps losing one of us in the process.’

‘But you never had the chance?’

‘I had to go to Middle Fork. It was a short assignment. I ended up staying there for most of my life.’ He stared across the table at her, still suffering the anguish of a decision made almost a century and a half earlier.

‘Would you like some more?’ Hannah said, offering the tecan jug, hoping to stop the old man breaking apart. She changed the subject. ‘Do you suppose my friends are alive?’

‘Steven and-’

‘Mark. Mark Jenkins and Steven Taylor. I’m certain they came across the Fold together sometime during the day before I landed in Southport.’

Alen shook his head. ‘I cannot begin to say, Hannah. I’m sorry.’

Her efforts to distract him were failing. He was lost in England, reliving the worst decision of his life, without the help of any enchanted bark or the forest of ghosts.

She tried again. ‘Have you given any more thought to why Nerak might want so much of that bark?’ She tried to be as upbeat as she could.

‘You don’t need to do this, Hannah.’ Alen cut her short. ‘I have lived with this for a long time, long before you were born, and I will live with it for the time I have left. Ignoring or forgetting it would mitigate everything that my life has become. I want those memories clear when this all spins itself out.’

Hannah nodded.

‘When we get near Welstar Palace, I will try to contact Fantus. I hope it was he who opened the doors at Sandcliff.’

‘Yes, I remember,’ she said. ‘If it was him, we live. If it was Nerak, we die.’

‘You don’t cloud the air with a lot of unnecessary details; that’s an admirable trait. And yes, if Fantus is at Sandcliff, and if we are exceedingly lucky, he may know something of your friends.’

‘I appreciate you asking him, but why contact him in the first place?’ Hannah asked.

‘He has been out and about these past Twinmoons; I felt him working spells, before I lost much of my ability to feel anything at all. Perhaps he knows something of Welstar Palace.’ Alen rose to pay their bill. ‘Good night, Hannah.’

‘Good night,’ she said, worrying that he might succumb to his grief, his alcohol poisoning or his guilt and die before dawn. The wooden stairs were silent as he passed.

Hannah suddenly felt as lost and alone as she had felt since her arrival. The three Malakasian soldiers drinking at the bar were a stark reminder of the dangers that had found her so soon after her arrival in Southport. Turning quickly, she took the rest of the tecan and a mug and followed Alen upstairs.

The sky had just begun to whiten in the east when Brexan woke. The Ravenian Sea and the salt marsh remained dark, insubstantial in the pre-dawn aven. Slipping into her tunic, she crept into the front room, stoked the overnight embers and put on a kettle of water; Nedra Daubert, the woman who owned the Topgallant Boarding House, was happy to wake to a ready-made fire and a pot of tecan already brewing. She had asked no questions when Sallax and Brexan arrived, dirty, shivering and without any bags, but taken the last silver coin Brexan had and invited the couple to stay on with her until their luck changed.

‘There’s enough silver here to last the next Moon, and that’s with meals,’ she told them, clucking around them in a motherly fashion. ‘If you don’t have any more, or you haven’t earned any by then, well, I suppose you’ll be able to stay on for a while after that. What difference does it make? That dog-rutting Malagon taxes most of what I take anyway.’

Sallax had grinned and they had accepted her offer to join her for a flagon of wine and a few slices of just-baked bread.

For the next twenty days, the Topgallant had seen only two other boarders, travelling merchants who stayed a night or two before moving on, but Nedra’s front room was invariably filled to bursting every night. Her seafood stew was justly renowned. Brexan and Sallax helped out in the kitchen, then, worn out from the countless trips back and forth between the front room, the bar and the kitchen, the three tired workers would eat their fill while Nedra counted the evening’s copper Mareks. Each time they helped, the innkeeper would separate out a few coins, slide them across to Brexan, and say, ‘There’s a bit of spending money, and you’ve earned another five nights’ room and meals.’

Brexan tried to argue that she was being too generous, but Nedra would not listen to the younger woman’s objections. After a while, she realised Nedra loved having company around the Topgallant, and any loss of revenue was a small price to pay. There was no danger of the Topgallant going out of business; the boarding part was just an excuse to have new faces around the house.

Brexan wondered if she might one day live like this: with Versen dead, the former Malakasian soldier worried she might find herself keeping a tidy house, caring for her pets, cooking seven-course meals for one, and suffering in silent loneliness until the end of her days. She would have liked to have stayed on at the Topgallant, keeping her new friend company, but that wasn’t possible. Sallax’s shoulder was growing stronger every day, and it would soon be time to exact their revenge on the fat merchant and the spy. Killing Carpello and Jacrys would result in another wave of citywide raids, public hangings and general unrest and neither she nor Sallax would feel comfortable placing Nedra in harm’s way after all she’d done for them.