Broken Earth Read online

  “I understand,” said Heidi. “Go on.”

  “That’s the place where this map ends,” said Billy. “Once you come to the hills, you won’t be in Geinhold anymore. The distance between the hills and the city is no small one; but the course is straight enough, and you’ve little chance of getting lost.”

  “All right.”

  “Now,” said Billy; “about those hills. They weren’t always as they are. There used to be a fair number of houses there, and a fair number of people living in them. But they’re burnt like a bad supper now, all charred up like something that you accidentally dropped in the fire. Hardly anybody calls them the Panwye Hills anymore. Now they’re the Hills Which She Smote, all black and crumbling by a day of her poor mood.”

  “She?” said Heidi, feeling a lump beginning to grow in her throat.

  “Dain Aerca,” said Billy, looking at her very seriously. “Now, if you’ve never even heard of her, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to –”

  “No,” said Heidi. “I know who she is. I know all too well, believe me.”

  It seemed as though, despite his apparent lack of interest in questions and answers, Billy wanted to ask her something else. But he only shook his head, and mumbled to himself. “None of your business,” he said. “None of your business, Billy Burr.”

  “Where do we go, once we get to the hills?”

  “They only go on for a few miles. But I assure you, you’re not going to find anything prettier when you get past them.”

  “But what is past them?”

  He threw the map down. “Look, little miss. I simply cannot see why you want to go to that place! Don’t you understand how dangerous it is?”

  “I do.”

  Going back to his mumbling, Billy dropped his head into his hands. But he straightened up quickly, looking as if he had resolved himself to finish the explanation he promised Heidi.

  “Nothing has a name anymore, outside those hills. There used to be a few little towns, and a city called Wyve that was about the same size as Ludjo. But that’s all gone now. Everything looks just the same as the hills, all dark and full of ash. They call it the Abandoned Earth. You’ll have a lot more to steer clear from in that place than coyotes. Terrible things wander around those lands, going to and fro between Aerca’s hiding place and the decent places beyond, stirring up trouble and terrorising good people.” He removed his spectacles to dab at his eyes, which had begun to water, with a handkerchief from his shirt pocket. “One of those monsters got my Lea, just this past summer.”

  Heidi felt a pang for the fellow.

  “I’m sorry, Billy,” she said, putting a hand on his arm.

  “Nothing to be done about it,” he said, replacing his spectacles. “What can an old man like me do about it?”

  “As much as I could, I suppose.”

  He gazed at her in disbelief. “A little girl like you? What can you do but get yourself killed?”

  She smiled at him. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you, Billy – not to decide a book by its cover?”

  “You know,” he said, seeming to brighten up a bit, “I can believe that about you. There’s something about you – I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m sure it’s something good. You’re a good strong person, I can tell.”

  “So are you, Billy.”

  Heidi laughed as his ears turned pink.

  “Is there anything else I should know, before I leave?”

  “There’s not much more I can tell you. Once you get past the hills, the land is empty as can be. It’s quite a pace away, but you’ll be able to see the wall clear as anything. The biggest worry is getting to it, without getting yourself hurt.”

  “The wall?” said Heidi. “The wall of what?”

  “Of Onssgaard. It’s about forty feet tall, and surrounds the whole city. It was built when Aerca relocated herself to the lands outside of Onssgaard, when she started destroying everything around it. Now the city’s like a haven in betwixt all that rot and decay. Even from outside the wall, though, you can see the top of the castle of Eredor.”

  “Is that where I will find the Queen?”

  “Well – well, yes. But I don’t see how you hope to gain an appointment with her.” He paused, and scratched his chin. “Besides – the Princess is the one heading things now, since her mother took ill.”

  “Will you tell me about her?”

  “As much as I know. The Queen, I’m sure you know (as you seem so keen on her, is the reason I say so) is a very powerful woman. Works the magic, you know. The Princess is said to be fairly strong likewise – though I’ve heard much less about that. The city is in a sorry state these days.”

  “So I should ask for the Princess, when I arrive at the city?”

  “Well, you would,” he said hesitantly. “Though you’d still be faced with the same problem.”

  “If I can manage to arrive at her castle,” said Heidi, feeling at the brink of a passionate explosion; “well – I just I don’t see how fate could deny me the privilege. Do you, Billy?”

  “No, little miss,” said he; and his voice was very honest. “I certainly don’t.”

  ~

  Heidi walked with Billy from the cabin. He made his easy way towards the stables; and Heidi returned to the inn.

  When she came back to their room, she woke Dera from a sleep which gave no evidence of having been broken. Dera rose grumpily, and made herself ready to depart.

  Fifteen minutes later, bags in hand, she and Dera went down to the empty dining room. The pert fellow with the snappish tongue, had already found his place back behind the counter, and Ryo was dashing back and forth doing Heidi knew not what, moving much faster than he was probably compensated to move.

  As they went out the door, they did not look at the man behind the counter; and he said nothing to them.

  “Where are the horses?” Dera asked worriedly, looking all about the lot. “Did someone steal them?”

  “No one stole them. They’re in the stable.”

  “There’s a stable?”

  “That’s what I asked.”

  “That’s what you asked whom?”

  “Billy.”

  Dera looked quite puzzled, as Heidi led her round the inn. They walked through the open doors of the stable; and there was Billy, giving the horse in the first stall a good brushing.

  He looked at Heidi. “This one’s mine,” he said. “Her name’s Lucy.”

  “Well, where are ours?” asked Dera rudely.

  “Be nice, Dera.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Billy is a lovely man.”

  “Is he, now?”

  “Your horses are down here,” said Billy, leading them almost to the back of the stable. Eriah and Dillyn were in stalls side by side.

  “I knew you would probably be off right away, so I got them all saddled up for you.”

  He took the horses out of the stalls, and then left them to Heidi and Dera. “I suppose you’ll be going on, now?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” said Heidi. “We must get started eventually.”

  Billy followed them outside, and watched them mount the horses. “I saw that you were running low on food for your friends here,” he said, patting Eriah’s neck. “I put some extras into your saddlebags, as you’ll be running into plenty of places where you’ll find no grass. And you’re going to want to stop at the trading post before you get on the Euskan; they’ve got all sorts of travel food there. You’ll find lots of clean, running water between here and the Lalos, but make sure you have enough about you when you go into the lowlands. I don’t know how much good it will do you – but I wish you the best of luck.”

  “Thank you, Billy. I don’t know how likely it is to happen – but I do hope that we meet again someday.”

  “I’ll be sending my best wishes,” he said with a smile.

  Heidi and Dera rode out of the lot; and Heidi looked back at Billy, who was waving. She waved back – but then turned towar
ds the road, feeling somehow that, by leaving behind that kind old man, she was leaving behind all things good.

  “What was all that about?” asked Dera. “And why did that old man make it sound as if this little expedition is going to take a very long time?”

  “I have to tell you, Dera – if it wasn’t for Billy, I don’t think we would ever get to Onssgaard.”

  Dera’s mouth fell open. “You told him where we’re going?”

  “After careful consideration, yes, I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we needed someone to tell us how to get there!”

  “And I suppose he did?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how far is it?”

  “Farther than we thought.”

  Dera groaned. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

  Heidi recounted Billy’s directions as best she could, finding an ironic kind of amusement in the look of incredulity on Dera’s face.

  “Curses!” she said loudly. “Curse it all, I knew that this would happen.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did! That’s why I wanted not to go in the first place!”

  “Do you want to turn back?”

  Dera swivelled her head, to look upon the distant peaks of the Snowy Mountains; and sighed.

  “Is that my cue to keep South?” Heidi asked.

  “Shut up, you.”

  ~

  The spell held for much longer than Dain thought it would. Usually, such tricks were merely games to her; but this one had gotten to her, and had caused her to lose sight, if only for a moment, of the upper hand she had already gained.

  She had felt as she had all those years ago, when she was trying still to overcome the bonds that Abella had thrown upon her. She had felt so free, when she finally shook them off; but as she stared into the Sphere, unable to pierce the veil that had been cast over her eyes, she was nothing again. Her Power was irrelevant, and all she had accomplished faded into the background.

  She had been helpless – and there was nothing she could do about it.

  It was a far more significant thing than she wished to admit.

  But now she tried to clear her head, satisfied by having finally located all three of the displaced vermin. She already had a tracking party set on the one – and had given specific instructions. She had sent another after the pair, with a lesser job to perform.

  Despite the relative newness of the day, Dain fell into bed without a thought. She was sapped of strength.

  She whom Dain had already slain was of little consequence. She had had no Power. Why the others had taken her into their circle, she would never know; but she could take at least some consolation from that fact that her death would pain them all. Hopefully to the point of distraction.

  ~

  Biscayne and Kellin led the company that followed Jade. But there was another party, far behind, that kept watch upon Heidi and Dera. The group was small, and consisted of only three Narken and two Lumaria. The latter walked in front, sometimes visible and sometimes not; but the Narken lagged behind, growing ever more irritated with what they considered Kroso’s poor leadership.

  “I don’t even understand why they had to come,” said Hara to his companions. “They’re only here for show.”

  Pesha appeared beside him, her expression one of intense hostility. “I can hear every word you say,” she told him. “Why don’t you change the subject of your moronic conversation?”

  Hara glared at her. “I don’t serve you, Pesha.”

  Kroso was there, then, walking in between Hara and Pesha. “Why can you two never seem to get along?” he asked. “We have only one thing to do – and it is not even a very difficult thing, at that! We are following the pair of Aurens; we are to watch their every move; but we are not to touch them. We are to wait for Biscayne’s signal. And then we leave.”

  “But why?” asked Bru, speaking to the Lumarian for the first time since they set out together. “Why don’t we just take them? Doesn’t the Sorceress want them?”

  “Of course she does,” said Kroso. “But the time is not right.”

  Pesha grinned wickedly. “If it were up to me, they would be hanging by their feet from the tree they slept under in the Endril. I would have waited until they opened their eyes, and then –”

  “Peace, Pesha,” said Kroso. “Their fates are not in our hands.”

  With that, he and Pesha disappeared from the Narken’s sight. They appeared a few moments later, walking far ahead, floating in and out of the shadows of the trees.

  “I still don’t understand what we are doing,” said Noll.

  “None of us do,” said Hara. “And they are not going to tell us anything.”

  “Careful, Hara,” warned Bru. “Don’t get Pesha started.”

  “I could not care less what Pesha does. If I wished, I could break her apart; straight down the middle. She would do well to remember that.”

  Noll and Bru wholly expected her to appear beside them again, in acceptance of Hara’s challenge; but she kept her place by Kroso.

  “I still think we should stop at the inn,” she said. “I could not tell what she was saying – but one of them was talking to someone this morning. We should question them.”

  “We have not been appointed to do so.”

  “I know that. But what are we, Kroso – puppets played upon a string?”

  “In a way.”

  “And you harbour no ill will about that?”

  “The feelings I harbour are of no consequence. Only think of it for a moment, Pesha. If we were to go out on our own – and to break ties with the Sorceress – how far do you think we should get? We have no allies to speak of. Those who despise the Sorceress despise us. Do you not see?”

  “I see it all well enough,” said Pesha. “But I will not pretend to be pleased.”

  “You will pretend as best you can, when you are before the Sorceress. Sometimes I fear that your recalcitrance will be your undoing.”

  “Perhaps it will.”

  Kroso took her hand, knowing that more words of the same nature would do nothing to appease her. They kept to the shadows, and restricted their pace, so that they might not lose their tail of Narken.

  ~

  Jade had been pushing herself at such a pace, she arrived that evening at the gates of Ludjo. After having had a few questions put to her, she was admitted into the city. She went in gratefully, glad to be rid finally of the open road. For some miles, she had felt eyes upon her back. She needed a place where she could rest – without fear of being overtaken.

  Ludjo was full of sleeping houses, all of which, Jade was thankful to find, were relatively inexpensive. She had not taken very much money with her when she departed; having, indeed, left most of it behind for the others. (All of which was currently held fast to Heidi’s belt, twenty dryas less than it had been at the start of their journey – not that Jade knew anything of that.)

  She stopped at the first lodging she came to, giving Buck up to a man by the door. She paid the single drya, and went to claim one of a long row of neat and narrow beds.

  For the first time since she set out, eight days previous, she slept soundly. She did not worry; and she did not dream.

  But morning came all too soon. She got out of bed reluctantly. She went directly to the front of the house, to request her horse. He was brought along speedily.

  And so began yet another day. Jade rode through the busy streets, glad of the cover they provided. But they passed away quickly enough, replacing themselves with narrow lanes beside which small houses stood sparsely. She had left behind the main part of the city, and was heading with all due alacrity towards being exposed once again.

  ~

  “There must, at the very least, be somewhere up ahead where we can sleep.”

  It had been almost three days since they left the Brass Knuckle. They had stopped only several times, to eat a bit of food and rest their eyes.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell
you,” said Heidi, “but I do not think we are going to be able to afford any more beds.”

  “What?”

  “We had not very much money to begin with – and have spent nearly half of it! We must save the rest, for the crossing of the river.”

  “And how much will that be?”

  “Perhaps more than we have.”

  Cabria was much larger than Lodale, and there were in fact many places they could have stopped to rest. Dera eyed each one angrily as they passed, keeping her thoughts to herself, but leaving in her expression no room for the doubt of them.

  There was a large public water fountain in the middle of the city, that stood directly before the town hall. They filled their skins in it – but touched not a drop of the water they had taken till they reached the flatlands. These empty plains stretched on to apparent infinity at either side of the road called Lalos.

  “A hundred miles of this,” said Heidi, looking out over the long lonely places that they were about to trod.

  “You would do better not to remind me,” said Dera.

  ~

  With a wave to his father at the troughs of the third pigpen, David collected his horse from the barn, and set off for the post. He checked it usually once a week, but was several days late, due to the overwhelming amount of work that was piling up on the farm. Harvest had passed months ago, of course; but now it was December, which was pig season in those parts.

  There were twelve pigpens on the Misaria farm, with twenty-five pigs to a pen. There was a smattering of different religions in Portentia, but the twelfth month of the year was one of holiday celebration in almost every one. David and his father recognised none of them – but were still always busy with the fattening, slaughtering, packaging and delivery of all three hundred pigs. There were a few boys from town whom they paid to assist them, but the brunt of the responsibility fell upon themselves.

  It had been easier years ago, when Jade still lived on the farm. But now she dwelt almost fifty miles away. Each year, however, she managed to come for at least a day or two during the busy season. She always came – but she had not come this year.