Awakening Read online

  He shook his head. ‘What will I do with you girl? You can’t serve tonight, you’d scare away the customers. Look at the dirt on you! It’s not good for business.’ He began to carve again. ‘Go upstairs and wash. Go on.’ He nodded his head toward the stairs, the ring in his ear glittering. ‘Got enough girls for tonight anyway, smell better than you too.’ He grinned and stuffed a hunk of meat into his mouth. ‘Go on!’ He gestured at her with his knife, his eyebrows raised. ‘Why you still here?’

  Surprised and grateful for the reprieve, Shaan quickly slapped the meat between the bread and breaking off a corner of cheese, made for the door. Holding the thick sandwich in one hand and chewing on the cheese she pushed open the door to the stairs.

  ‘Of course I’ll want twice as much fish on this table tomorrow!’ Torg’s voice followed her out.

  She should have known there’d be a catch. Taking a big bite of the bread and meat she went upstairs, the noise from the bar receding to a dull hum as she went into her room.

  An hour later she was feeling somewhat revived after a wash. She put on a clean pair of trousers and a fresh shirt, but when she lay down to rest she could not settle. She lay on the bed staring at the ceiling and listening to the footfalls of men and the giggling breathy voices of the women as they took them to the rooms. She’d locked her door in case one of them got lost, but it wasn’t the men wandering around the inn that bothered her.

  Nuathin. Now she was alone in her room, the day kept coming back to her. The voice calling to her, whispering in her mind. Thinking about it made her stomach twist in anxiety.

  Is he here then, is he back?

  Was who back? It made no sense. Even the serpent had seemed afraid. What would a beast of his size fear? Or who? Shaan’s throat closed up. He couldn’t mean Azoth, the Fallen? It wasn’t possible. He had been cast into the Void two thousand years ago by the Four Lost Gods and was never supposed to return. Why would Nuathin think he was back? And why would he want him back? She sat up, leaning against the wall. The Fallen had used many of the serpents to create a personal army, turning them into something else. He’d made them sacrifice their lives so he could create a new kind of creature: the Alhanti, warriors both serpent and human. Why would a serpent want to return to those days? And why would Nuathin ask her? She didn’t know anything. She shouldn’t even be able to hear him in her mind.

  She rubbed her hands up her arms and leaned on the window ledge, staring out over the lights of the city. She wasn’t one to worship the Lost Gods like some, the pious who kept bone carvings of their likeness by their beds; but she couldn’t help sending a silent prayer out to them now. They’d martyred themselves to save everyone, maybe they were watching over them still – somewhere. She looked at the stars, dimmed by the reflected glow of the city. Maybe they were up there? Then she stopped, giving herself a mental shake. Since when did she get so maudlin? Nuathin was just an old, mad serpent that barely knew his own name. What was she thinking about gods and stars for? Lost in her thoughts, she stared unseeing at the buildings and streets below, until she became aware of raised voices in the corridor outside her door.

  Drawing back from the window she listened to a man complaining in a loud voice, slurring his words. He was answered by a screech and the sound of a slap. She unlocked the door and poked her head out. Standing in the middle of the hallway a short, round-bellied man was bent almost double clutching his groin and moaning while Melita, one of the whores, berated him and occasionally cuffed him on the side of his head. Looking up, she smiled at Shaan before tossing back her hair and continuing to scream at the cowering man.

  Shaan smiled ruefully, men stupid enough to take on Melita always lived to regret it. She was about to go back into her room when she caught a glimpse of Tuon’s blonde head disappearing down the stairs.

  ‘Tuon!’ she called out, but the courtesan didn’t turn around. Frowning, Shaan left her room and went down the hall to peer over the banister.

  ‘Tuon,’ she called again, but Tuon kept going, disappearing through the kitchen door. Where was she off to at this hour? Curious, Shaan followed her down the stairs and made it through the empty kitchen in time to see her hesitate briefly at the inn’s back gates, then step out into the street.

  Surely she should be working tonight. Shaan frowned. Tuon had been behaving so strangely lately. She’d not been around the inn much, and when was the last time she had actually worked here? Shaan searched her mind, but could not remember. In fact, she didn’t recall her being around much at night at all. It was strange, and what was that secretive look she’d seen on her face when she’d spoken of the Faithful the other day at the fountain? Something was going on. Without stopping to consider what she was doing, she followed her out of the back door.

  6

  Tuon was heading toward the centre of the city. A cooling breeze had come in since nightfall and the streets were crowded, making it hard for Shaan to keep her in sight. Inns, kaf houses and eateries all had their doors and windows flung wide, spilling tables, chairs and the smell of roasted meats into the street. Pools of light blazed from every window and the air was filled with the shouts and cries of children.

  But Tuon turned away from the crowds, creeping along in the shadows of the back streets. She was moving swiftly and had pulled her purple silk wrap up over her head, as if she didn’t want to be seen. Shaan had to walk fast to keep her in sight as they left the seafarers’ quarter far behind and headed into the merchants’ quarter. The streets were wider, paved and mostly empty. They passed the tall, shuttered buildings of the traders guilds and coin houses, closed now for the night, and continued down a street that led to a quiet square. Tuon crossed it and paused at the bottom of the steps of an imposing building. The Temple of Amora. Built to honour the slave girl who had freed them from Azoth two thousand years ago, it was the spiritual heart of the city.

  The front of the temple was a large, square building with a domed roof that served as the public worship centre. It was connected to a high wall surrounding the entire complex. A collection of interlinked buildings and gardens housed the Sisters of Amora and their library and was also the residence of the Consul of the Faithful. A set of wide shallow steps led up past marble pillars supporting a portico, to a pair of massive double doors. On either side, fountains splashed, throwing shimmering shadows on the walls and a white spire rose from the domed roof like a spear of light into the night sky. Shaan wondered what Tuon was doing here. Hiding in the shadows of a wine merchant’s doorway, she watched Tuon stand a moment longer looking at the imposing building, then creep forward and disappear down a dimly lit path alongside.

  Shaan paused for a moment then followed. The path was a narrow foot-road, wide enough for only two people to walk abreast, and was squeezed in between the temple on one side and the thickly planted garden of the Great Hall on the other. Small lamps mounted in the temple wall threw sparse pools of greenish-yellow light like stepping stones and up ahead she saw a flash of purple silk as Tuon disappeared through an opening.

  The back of her neck prickling, Shaan moved cautiously. Guards and even men of the Faithful could be on watch in this part of the city. What was Tuon doing here? Her muscles tensed and her ears strained for any sounds as she approached the opening. Ahead, the foot-road continued on into darkness. She hesitated then froze at the sound of voices. Looking furtive would raise their suspicions. Standing up straight she pulled her shoulders back and walked confidently through the archway with a purposeful step. Ahead, two men and two women were walking toward her along a short path between the high walls. All had disgruntled expressions as they discussed some matter between themselves. Beyond them, the path ended at an archway with an open door through which she could see a courtyard and more people milling about. There was no sign of Tuon.

  Taking a breath she nodded to the group as she passed.

  ‘Excuse me?’ One of the women put a hand on her arm stopping her.

  ‘Yes?’ Shaan paused, her heart lurch
ing.

  ‘Are you here for the meeting?’ The woman’s grey hair was pulled back revealing a gaunt, thin face.

  ‘Aah. Yes.’ Shaan hoped it was the right answer.

  ‘Well it’s over, you missed it. But the Commander’s still there. You can catch him if you hurry.’

  ‘Meara!’ The man near her spoke up. ‘Mind who you talk to. I’ve never seen her here before.’ He had a curling red beard and distrustful eyes. Shaan guessed he was the woman’s husband.

  ‘I’m only new.’ She smiled as innocently as she could.

  ‘Really?’ He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her breasts.

  ‘I’ve never . . . it’s my first meeting, I got lost.’ Shaan gave him a helpless look. ‘I just don’t know my way around this part of the city.’

  He gave her a long look and pursed his lips. ‘Yes, well it is confusing to the new ones,’ he conceded.

  ‘Did I miss anything important?’

  He grimaced. ‘They didn’t tell us much about the serpent attacks, if that’s what you mean.’ He exchanged a disgusted look with the other man. ‘But they did say the Commander had sent a couple of riders out to investigate.’

  ‘And the Seer fainted!’ Meara butted in, her hand on Shaan’s arm.

  ‘Meara!’

  ‘Well, she did,’ Meara sniffed. ‘She came out and was giving a telling and was saying she’d been feeling a strange presence in the Void, and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she just fell down and that handsome Commander Rorc leaped over the table and caught her.’

  ‘Well that’s not exactly what happened.’ Her husband scowled.

  Meara flipped at hand at him. ‘They were saying it might be . . .’ she paused to look over her shoulder then lowered her voice, ‘the Fallen, come back and we’re all to watch out for him.’

  Shaan’s insides clenched as Nuathin’s words suddenly came back to her: Is he here then, is he back?

  ‘That’s not what they said at all.’ Meara’s husband pulled her away.

  ‘It is!’ Meara looked indignant, but he ignored her.

  ‘There was talk of the Fallen one possibly returning, but they weren’t sure. What my wife here left out is that the Seer sensed a stranger in the Void. It’s this stranger the Seer said the Faithful want to find.’

  ‘Why?’ Shaan felt uneasiness curl like sour milk in her stomach.

  ‘How should I know?’ He shrugged. ‘They just said they think this stranger could be here in Salmut and the Faithful’s followers are to keep an eye out for odd things, strange people and the like.’ He narrowed his gaze at her. ‘What did you say your name was?’

  Shaan’s neck prickled. So this had been a meeting of the Faithful. She began to back away toward the door that they’d come through.

  ‘Aah, I’m Raikah. And I’ll certainly be on the lookout for this stranger.’

  ‘You do that.’ His eyes fell to her breasts again. ‘Come on Meara.’ He pulled his wife away. The other couple cast grave looks over her as they followed him.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Shaan made her way toward the archway. What was all that about? Was Tuon working for the Faithful? She couldn’t quite believe it.

  Trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, Shaan edged through the doorway. Inside was a small courtyard and she tensed as she saw a Hunter of the Faithful leaning casually against the opposite wall, guarding the entrance. Tall and lean he wore a long sword and had a knife strapped to his thigh. Swallowing, Shaan tagged along behind a group of men going back into the temple, hoping he wouldn’t notice her.

  ‘You there!’

  She stopped in the entrance, slowly turning, her mouth dry.

  ‘Where are you going?’ He had a narrow face and was young. Up close she could see he’d barely have enough beard to shave.

  She thought fast, clasping her hands together demurely. ‘I’ve come to . . . I want to join the order.’ She put a little catch in her voice. ‘I’ve come to see the Primate. I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I don’t know my way.’ She looked up at him through her lashes and thanked the gods she had rushed out after Tuon and not stopped for her knife.

  ‘All right.’ He tilted his head. ‘In you go, but . . .’ he moved off the wall and leaned down to her, ‘I will find you if you’ve lied.’

  Shaan didn’t doubt his word. She gave him a tight smile and a nod and moved away as quickly as she could, feeling his eyes on her back as she went. She wasn’t sure if he would check on her, but somehow she doubted she had much time to find out. Just what was Tuon doing in a place teeming with the Faithful?

  She entered a white corridor floored with pale red tiles. On one wall was a row of colourful tapestries depicting Amora in various heroic poses, and on the other were four closed wooden doors. At the end of the corridor a set of doors stood open and within she could see rows of benches facing a long table on a dais and a few people still lingering. As she drew closer she spotted Tuon inside standing with two men. One was a tall, dark-haired man, and the other an older man with grey hair and a slight paunch. A Hunter stood behind her. The dark-haired man had his back to her, but as Shaan watched he turned slightly to one side to speak to someone else and her heart leaped into her mouth.

  It was the man in black from the markets. She recognised the curve of his jaw. Her breath shortened. Tuon had said he was one of the Faithful’s commanders, and the way the Hunter was deferring to him seemed to confirm that.

  What was she doing with him? As she watched, the older man put an arm around her and said something to the Commander. Tuon nodded and then the older man drew her with him to an open door at the back of the room. For a moment, Tuon resisted looking back at the Commander, annoyance clear on her face, but then she disappeared through the door.

  Shaan hovered in the opening, remembering again the warning Tuon had given her at the markets: don’t mess with men like that. And now here she was among them, talking with the very man she’d warned her about. For a moment she considered not following. It was obvious Tuon was here because she wanted to be. There’d been no one forcing her to come, no one standing over her. Why should she worry? But she didn’t move. There had been something else in her expression that bothered her.

  She stood just behind the doorframe watching the Commander talking to the Hunter. Someone across the room called out, and he looked up then walked over to the other side of the room. It was now or never. Taking advantage of the distraction, Shaan slipped in and walked quickly toward the door at the back.

  There were still a number of people about and a low hum of conversation surrounded her. Black-clad men stood silent along the walls, and she tried to look as purposeful as possible and hoped none of them were Seducers. If one of them decided to focus his will on her, or became suspicious, it was over.

  Keeping her eyes down she made it to the door without being challenged. It was only after she’d passed through she found out why. Coming down the hall, smiling straight at her with a hand extended, was one of the Sisters of Amora.

  ‘Aah, my dear,’ she reached out and clasped Shaan’s hand. ‘You must be the initiate.’

  She was very short, with long dark hair and her brown eyes crinkled as she smiled at her. Shaan stared, desperately trying to think of what to do.

  The woman laughed. ‘Well you do look confused. One of the men told me you looked lost, which is hardly surprising given all this activity.’ She waved a hand beyond her to the meeting room. ‘Come with me, we’ll have some wine and you can tell me about yourself before we see the Primate.’

  She linked her arm through Shaan’s and began to stroll back down the hallway. Shaan had little choice but to follow.

  ‘I’m Sister Lyria. I’m the Prior here. I greet all the new ones.’ She looked at her with a smile. ‘I’ll be looking after you throughout your initiation. How old are you?’

  ‘Um, eighteen,’ Shaan said distractedly, glancing around and trying to guess where Tuon had gone. There were only a few doors and all of t
hem were closed. Ahead, the hall went only a short way before meeting a wall and turning. Had Tuon gone in one of the doors, or further ahead?

  ‘That’s a bit older than when most girls start,’ Sister Lyria said. ‘Why did you wait?’

  ‘Hmmm, um,’ Shaan stalled, looking all around for an escape. ‘It took me a while longer to decide I guess,’ she said vaguely.

  The answer seemed to satisfy Sister Lyria who nodded and stopped at the next closed door, putting her hand on the knob.

  ‘You wait in here for a moment, I’ll just go get us some refreshments.’ She pushed open the door and then suddenly propelled Shaan into the room with a surprisingly firm shove. Turning, Shaan reached for the door, but her fingers slipped on the wood as Sister Lyria whipped it out of her grasp with a grimace of distaste and slammed it shut. Shaan heard the unmistakable sound of a lock turning.

  ‘Now, just you wait there.’ The Sister’s voice came muffled through the door. ‘And don’t touch anything.’

  Swearing, Shaan wondered how she could have been so stupid. Of course it had been too easy. No doubt the Sister was off to find one of the Faithful, or worse, the Commander. If the Faithful caught her . . . she closed her mind off from thinking about it. She had only one option now and that was to get out. If she could.

  She checked the room. It was small and sparsely furnished. There was a narrow bed, a square table pushed up against the wall on her right and a washstand in the corner. A lamp hung from a nail on the wall throwing a warm yellow light on the floor and there was a small square window at chest height directly opposite her, the shutters fastened with a lock. Shaan rushed over to it. The lock on the shutters was sturdy and fairly new, but with relief she saw that the hinges at the wall were simple old bolt hinges. Working quickly she took the lamp down from its nail and unclasped the loop of wire that served as its handle. Straightening it out she wiggled it in and up between the pin and bolt of the shutter hinge and with another wiggle and a sharp upward pull, shoved the bolt up and out. Well, thank the gods for her street pack training, she thought.