Roger Taylor: Arash-Felloren

A great cloud of dust rose up into the red evening light and engulfed the crowd.

‘Take us home, Heirn,’ he said.

Insofar as anyone cared, the collapse of the Jyolan was generally attributed to fundamental instability in its ancient and intricate structure. Ale-shop worthies nodded sagely over their jugs to confirm their surprise that it had not happened long ago. No one attempted to explain the noises that had come from it. They were left to colour the nightmares of those who had heard them for a long time.

Miraculously, no one else was killed. All except Barran had left when the sounds of the fighting began to resonate through the building, and he had escaped very quickly when the shaking began.

Barran was more than a little disappointed. The building had cost him a great deal, and the loss of the Mirror Room in particular grieved him deeply. It took him several hours to recover, then he was making plans about what he could use the site for, and to whom he could sell a considerable amount of rubble. He consoled himself also with the knowledge that he would be able to use the loss very effectively when dealing with the Kyrosdyn in future.

The Kyrosdyn themselves however, were much reduced as a force in Arash-Felloren. The loss of both Imorren and Rostan, together with the collapse of the plan for the Anointing, left them with little choice but to revert to their nominal calling as simple crystal workers.

The Tunnellers who had assaulted the Vaskyros faded away.

Arash-Felloren continued as normal. Only the gossip changed.

Atlon was exhausted and badly bruised, but otherwise uninjured. Such discomfort as he felt, he forced himself to ignore as he worked to help Pinnatte, for the erstwhile street thief’s need was considerable. The wound made by the Serwulf festered badly and gave him great pain. It taxed Atlon’s skills to the full, though after a few grim days it gradually began to heal. His inner wounds were even less amenable, and for some time he would not speak and had to be encouraged even to eat. For a long time he would wake each night, wide-eyed, his mouth gaping in a silent scream.

‘He’s seen things that people aren’t supposed to see,’ Atlon said. ‘When he’s well enough, he’ll have to come back with me. He’s beyond anything I can do, but I know a healer who might be able to help him.’ Heirn offered no objection. There was nothing for someone in Pinnatte’s condition in Arash-Felloren.

Ghreel recognized Atlon immediately.

‘Don’t expect any money back for the nights you didn’t sleep here. I had to keep your room empty.’

Atlon ignored the greeting and moved to a table. Heirn followed him, leading Pinnatte. Dvolci trotted behind them. They ate a meal in silence.

When they had finished, Heirn leaned back luxuriously. ‘Miserable old devil is Ghreel, but he’s not a bad cook.’

Atlon nodded.

‘Will you come back again?’ Heirn asked.

Atlon looked at him pensively. ‘It’s not a nice place.’

‘It’s better now, with the Jyolan gone and the Kyrosdyn chastened.’

‘True,’ Atlon conceded. He took a small box from his pocket. ‘These are the crystals from that poor Novice. Take them.’ He held up a hand to forestall Heirn’s protest. ‘Use them to make the place better still.’ He placed the box on the table.

‘I’ll be back,’ he said unequivocally after a brief silence. ‘We need to know much more about these things.’ He shook his head thoughtfully. ‘I can’t see how they can be natural. They have all the characteristics of a made thing. And something made for weapons at that.’ He thrust the box towards Heirn. ‘Still, that’s for another time, isn’t it? My immediate concern is to get Pinnatte home safely and in the hands of someone who can help him properly. And my people need to know all that happened.’

His face darkened and his voice fell. ‘I felt His presence in that awful light, Heirn. As clearly as I felt it all those years ago. He was nearly here. We know beyond any doubt now that he’s struggling to return. It would be foolish of us indeed to imagine that Arash-Felloren was the only place where His followers are working to help Him.’

Heirn laid a hand on Atlon’s arm. ‘But He didn’t return, did He? And you and your Brothers will be watching for Him now.’

‘And there’s one other person who knows about Him now, isn’t there?’ Atlon said, looking at him significantly.

Heirn returned the look then picked up the box. ‘Never underestimate the value of the small action, eh?’ he said. Atlon nodded.

Then they were leaving. Heirn went first, helping Pinnatte. Atlon followed him.

As he walked past Ghreel, scowling over the counter, Dvolci could not resist. He stood on his hind legs and looked at him squarely.

‘Jolly nice meal, landlord,’ he said loudly and as if to a slow child. ‘Jolly nice. I’ll be sure to recommend you to all my friends.’ He was laughing as he trotted off.

Ghreel was still gaping as Atlon, silhouetted in the doorway, gave him a parting wave then quietly closed the door.