The Song of the Sycamore, page 16
But in my lodgings, inaction was driving me crazy. Angry, confused, fearing the sky, I wondered if the storm would keep on hammering at the city shield until Old Castle’s ether-growth was drained of the power to sustain it.
I needed to occupy my mind and battle against a feeling that time was indeed running out and an urge to ignore Dyonne’s orders. So I reread every journal I’d filled so far, wrote furiously in my current journal, pushing aside my feelings while I went over and over the last couple of days, searching for reasons, facts, conclusions that would prove why Dyonne was wrong. But feelings were all I had in the end, swirling around the proclamation of a sly Magician that conflicted with the words of an old woman and a ghost.
So what if Meredith had duped Dyonne? It didn’t mean that she had duped me, or Abdon Klyne. If she really was working alongside the Scientists to capture me, then she could have led me directly to them. I had followed her instructions willingly, was led easily, so why toy around with me? Why would the Scientists need to use her at all?
Sycamore’s suspicions made sense to me now. Something was very wrong here. If Eden really had been a Magician’s apprentice, then in all likelihood the Salem had information about her, and of course they would keep that from me. The mystery of what had happened to my wife, where her spirit had gone, was the hook they used to ensure my obedience. I was convinced that Dyonne was troubled by what had occurred because someone, finally, was going to lead me to the truth, and the Salem wouldn’t like it if they lost access to Sycamore. After I had found Eden, I would no longer play the part of their pet assassin. Dyonne knew it and so did her masters.
Somewhere inside me, I sensed Sycamore encouraging my current line of thinking. Ing Meredith could be the key to his freedom and the answers to my questions. Or was Dyonne right to say that I just needed it to be that way? Did it matter that I couldn’t think of a single reason why Meredith might want to help me? Why had she got involved in this? Was I paranoid?
Refusing to switch my brain off with jenkem, I spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, thinking and overthinking, until dawn arrived, and I went upstairs to knock on Nel’s door. She was home with a mood as shitty as mine. She looked tired, hungover and like she had been in a fight. I didn’t ask how she got a split lip and a bruise under her eye, just said, ‘Let’s go,’ without giving an explanation. She didn’t ask for one, either, and headed out with me for the shanties on the eastern edge of the city.
With the under-rail not running, we had a couple of hours’ walk ahead of us. The storm had blocked out the sun and the city was darker than it was on most nights. The citizens were trying to continue life as normal, but the chirp of their voices came with a forced lightness that was unwilling to acknowledge the danger above, as though to do so would bring the sky crashing down on them. Their expressions were tight and their body language cowered beneath the roiling black and the fiery lightning that stabbed at the shield without a sound. Nel, too, was doing her best to ignore the ominous situation, but the whole city was scared.
‘The shield is giving me a headache,’ Nel mumbled.
I nodded in agreement.
It was the drone it made. It rumbled through the city, almost too low to hear, but at a frequency that pressed against my temples. Ordinarily, this wasn’t a problem. There was rarely cause to keep the shield activated for long; as fast as dangers came out of the wasteland, they were just as quickly dealt with. But this storm was in no hurry to leave, and the shield’s drone was fast becoming a constant headache for all citizens. I found a strange solace in the discomfort, though; as long as it was there, it meant our ether-growth still had enough power to protect the city.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the storm. It appeared to be fuelled by an inner fire that kept it raging, almost healthy-looking. So much power and violence kept at bay by a thin sheath of ether magic. If the shield deactivated, even for just a moment, I dared not imagine how much ruin the storm would cause to the city. It was too alive, like it was growing in strength instead of raging towards dissipation. I couldn’t shake an absurd notion that it somehow knew what it was doing. Was it hungering for our ether-growth?
Nel flinched and ducked as a fat streak of lightning struck and clawed at the shield with a blinding flash. ‘Fuck’s sake,’ she spat.
She and I hardly said a word to each other as we crossed the width of Old Castle, and then only begrudgingly when we arrived at our destination sometime around late morning.
‘Who are you supposed to be meeting?’ Nel grunted.
‘Someone called Pearl,’ I grunted back.
The refuse crews hadn’t bothered visiting this area. The shanties formed a small but tight-knit community, and its people had cleared away the storm’s fallout themselves. Drying to sodden grey ash, the sludge had been shovelled and swept into mounds on the outskirts of a settlement comprised of waste that had avoided recycling at the reduction houses: boxes and crates, waxed cloth and leather, metal, wood, stone, glass – any discarded Dust product had been used to build substandard hovels for the displaced.
‘Have you been in a fight?’ I asked Nel.
‘Yeah,’ she said gloomily. ‘With Mutley.’
‘What happened?’
‘She found out I’d been helping myself to Liquid Ether.’
‘I thought she liked to share with you.’
‘Well, her generosity ran dry last night.’ She looked at the sky and shuddered. ‘This fucking storm is turning everyone crazy.’
But not in the shanties. Adults, gaunt and dishevelled, sat around cook fires, talking as their lunch bubbled over crackling flames in cauldrons. They hid their concerns about the storm so the children playing around them could do so unhindered by fear. There was something content about this place.
‘It didn’t last long,’ Nel said. ‘I mean, I gave as good as I got, but you’ve seen Mutley. She’s twice my size and fuck me she can fight! I got out, quick.’ She touched a finger to her split lip and winced. ‘Turns out that Mutley’s temper and my smart mouth aren’t a good mix.’
I faced Nel, feeling guilty now that I hadn’t shown her much concern. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I really don’t want to talk about it, Wendal.’ She frowned. ‘What’s up with you?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it, either.’
‘Let’s get on with it, then.’
A few of the children ran around us as we made our way further into the settlement. Ash had added an extra layer of dirt to the grime of the lifestyle given to them by their parents, who aimed a few suspicious looks our way. The children found nothing unusual about our presence. They were happy, carefree, shouting and laughing, but no one was ever given the option of agreeing to the social pact they were born into. Eden had told me that. She and I never discussed having children.
The shanties were close enough to the coast to be technically outside the city. Less than a quarter of a league beyond the collection of hovels, I could see the tall ether-cannon turrets that lined the eastern clifftops, looking out to sea, protecting Nephuin Town – the fishing settlement down below them. I could hear the sound of waves crashing on rocks and the cry of gulls. I could smell salt in the air, despite the lingering aroma of rusty metal. The shield was focused on the storm above Old Castle. The city walls and the ether-cannons were all that stood between us and the wasteland.
Not really fancying my chances with questioning any of the adults, I caught the eye of a child and beckoned her over. She came, cocksure and smirking, a gaggle of friends trailing behind her.
‘I’m looking for Pearl,’ I said. ‘Do you know her?’
The girl stuck out her chin. ‘Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.’ Her friends giggled.
‘Is that a yes or a no?’
‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
She lost a little of her confidence. ‘Well … you know?’
I managed a smile. ‘Sorry, you’ve lost me.’
Nel slapped my arm with a backhand. ‘Just give her a coin, you tight-fisted bastard.’
The gaggle laughed. I fished a single bit from my pocket, jerking it back when the girl tried to snatch it from my hand. ‘Pearl?’
Wide-eyed and hopeful now, she pointed over the way to a woman sitting outside her hovel, whittling a piece of wood. The girl ran off excitedly with her gang, clutching the coin like a prized possession.
The woman didn’t look up when Nel and I stood over her. ‘Something I can do for you?’ she said in an unwelcoming tone.
‘Are you Pearl?’
‘That’s what they call me.’
‘I’ve been told you have information.’
She looked up. A dirty face full of distrust. ‘Wendal, is it? Thought you’d take me seriously this time, did you?’
‘We’ll see.’
Her eyes drifted to Nel and then back to me. ‘You’d better come in, I suppose.’
Placing the wood and whittling knife aside, she rose and disappeared through a leather flap into her hovel.
‘Friendly sort,’ Nel said. ‘Do you want me to wait out here?’
I looked at the satchel hanging from her shoulder and shook my head.
Pearl’s home was untidy with bric-a-brac and rubbish, reeking with a damp, unwashed smell. Pearl sat on a sackcloth pillow behind a low table which had obviously once been part of a crate. She told us to sit on the pillows on the opposite side of the table, then produced a tatty pouch and rattled its contents.
‘These are the bones of my grandfather’s left hand,’ she said. ‘He was a powerful Magician. The rest of him is buried on these very grounds. From beyond life, he protects the shanties. He—’
‘Let’s not fuck around,’ I said, throwing five bits onto the table. ‘You’ve been told who I am and why I’m here, so just get on with telling me what you think you know.’
Pearl scooped up the money and then stared at me. I could feel Nel staring at me, too. I didn’t care how offensive I was being; I wasn’t there to make friends. In fact, I didn’t know why I was there at all other than to satisfy Dyonne’s orders. I just wanted Pearl to say enough to confirm she was another charlatan, and then I could get on with a decision I only then realised I had made.
I was going to track down Ing Meredith for myself. Fuck Dyonne’s orders. There was more to this than the Magicians would ever let me know. Sycamore had been telling me that for months.
Pearl said, ‘My grandfather sang his Song to me when he died, passed his gifts to me. Now I can commune with the other side.’
She upturned the pouch, scattering finger bones on the table. Nel rolled her eyes at me. This was all too familiar, part of a routine we’d witnessed countless times. Nel’s reaction said it all; it told me, yet again, that I wouldn’t find my wife today. Only this time I had no argument.
‘Hmm.’ Pearl was leaning over the bones, apparently reading their formation. ‘I see a woman here.’
I sighed. ‘Let me guess – her name’s Eden.’
‘No.’ Pearl looked as surprised as me that she’d said that. ‘Strange … she’s not the one you’re looking for.’
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Nel said, sitting forwards, ‘but I think you’ll find that she is.’
‘Shut it!’ Pearl snapped. ‘Unless you want me to talk to the spirits following you around?’
Nel clamped her mouth and drew her lips into a line.
‘Eden,’ Pearl said to me. ‘She’s behind … no, she’s not the first …’ With a finger, she pushed a few of the bones into a different configuration. ‘She’s gone. This isn’t right.’
‘What are you talking about?’ I said.
‘You’re … you’re not looking for Eden.’ Pearl loosened the rag which served as her neckerchief, an expression of concern on her face. ‘Who are you looking for?’
For a moment, I feared she had some genuine talent and was picking up on my decision to ignore Dyonne’s orders. But this had to be part of the act. Had to be. Gaining confidence through uncertainty, leading me to piece together what I wanted to hear – it had been done to me a hundred times before.
‘The bones.’ Pearl became panicked. ‘They’re not speaking to me.’ She began scratching at her neck as though insects were crawling over her skin. ‘They’re speaking to you!’
She scrambled backwards, staring fearfully at the remnants of her grandfather’s hand. This didn’t feel like the act of a charlatan; Pearl looked genuinely scared. ‘You have to leave.’ Her voice came through hot gravel and she began coughing and gagging, gripping at her throat.
‘Oh no.’ Nel jumped to her feet, dipping her hand into her satchel. ‘Not again.’
But rather than unleashing anything as wild and untamed as Jon Johnny had, Pearl relaxed, falling limp to her side on the waste-covered floor. Her eyes closed and a tense expression spread across her face.
‘Wendal? Wendal, are you there?’
It wasn’t Pearl’s voice. It belonged to someone I’d met before, someone I’d just been thinking about.
‘Meredith?’
‘I haven’t much time, so you have to listen quick. Did you go to see Klyne?’
‘Shit!’
I rose and backed away, looking at Nel who mouthed the words, ‘What the fuck is going on?’
‘Wendal!’ Meredith snapped through Pearl. ‘Did you speak to Klyne?’
‘Yes. Yes, I spoke to him.’
‘Then he must have told you about the treasure Eden was looking for.’
‘Black stone.’
‘Yes! That’s what the Scientists are calling it. It’s something old, Wendal, and the Magicians definitely know about it, too. The Salem are trying to stop the Quantum using black stone, and Eden …’
Meredith fell silent and my every muscle tensed.
‘Eden what?’
Pearl stirred, and for a moment her voice overlapped with Meredith’s. ‘The Magicians had her looking for it. Eden had a master.’
I stepped forwards. ‘Tell me who.’
‘I … I have to leave. She’s too close.’
‘Wait!’
‘Don’t give up on me, Wendal, no matter what you hear. I’m going to help you.’
‘No,’ I shouted. ‘Don’t go.’
Pearl let out a groan and opened her eyes. ‘What did you do to me?’
‘Bring her back,’ I demanded.
It was clear by her expression that Pearl had no memory of what had occurred. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her. ‘Leave,’ she whimpered. ‘Now.’
Nel took my arm, but I didn’t let her lead me out. I wanted to grab the woman on the floor, shake her until Meredith came back. Only when Pearl screamed, ‘Get out!’ was I compelled to move.
Outside the hovel, Nel rounded on me, disturbed. ‘What just happened, Wendal? Who the fuck is Meredith?’
But I was only half-listening, more concerned that the shanties now appeared deserted. Not one adult or child in sight. Food boiled in cauldrons over unattended fires. Gulls cried from the distance. The storm raged silently.
‘Where did everyone go?’ Nel narrowed her eyes at something behind me. ‘Who’s that?’
On the other side of the fires, Tamara stood glaring at me, his thick arms folded across his wide chest.
‘You’d better leave,’ I told Nel, feeling cold.
‘Why? Who is he?’
‘I’ll explain later. Trust me, Nel, you have to go.’
She nodded and walked away, giving the imposing form of Tamara a wide berth.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Tamara ushered me into another ramshackle hovel. He waited outside, leaving me to face Dyonne Obor alone. The Magician sat at the same kind of low, makeshift table that Pearl had used, a triumphant look in her eyes.
‘You didn’t honestly believe that I’d let you go running off without supervision, did you?’
No, now she mentioned it, it didn’t sound like the sort of thing she’d do. ‘You set me up.’
‘There was a good chance that Ing Meredith would try to contact you again, so I thought I’d lay a trap.’
Evidence of the spells Dyonne had cast laced the air with the tingling, bitter residue of magic. Both women, it seemed, had used Pearl as a proxy.
‘Did you catch her?’
Dyonne shook her head. ‘Not this time. Meredith is a slippery customer, but she’ll soon run out of hiding places. Sit down, Wendal.’
I declined, not only because I felt like being defiant, but also because this hovel was as damp and stinking as Pearl’s, and the backs of my trousers were already wet and cold from sitting there.
‘I want to know what Meredith told you,’ Dyonne said.
‘She didn’t get the chance to say much at all. I think she felt you there and fled.’
‘I suppose that was wise of her. She told you nothing about your search? Didn’t try to arrange another meeting?’
I weighed the odds, deciding that Dyonne wasn’t testing my loyalties; that she genuinely didn’t know what Meredith had said. I wasn’t in the mood to be as forthcoming with the truth as I had been last time and shook my head. ‘Who is she?’
‘An irritation who has dived into waters far too deep for her.’ Bitterness laced Dyonne’s tone. ‘Meredith is a dormouse. She has some skill in magic, I can’t deny her that, though I sorely doubt she is anything like the oracle she thinks she is. I admit to feeling a little embarrassed, Wendal. How I was ever hoodwinked by such a buffoon is a mystery.’
Buffoon or not, Meredith had revealed that Dyonne had a blind spot. I liked that. ‘Is she working for the Scientists?’
