37. Fly innocent and free like the yarack

I spent the last days of my jail sentence in the infirmary. I was given a sedative which improved my condition slightly, though not enough to stop me wishing for death in my moments of relative lucidity. I cried out for karuja, but I was not listened to, I was given an abominable soup and left to die slowly. The words I heard were mostly unintelligible to me, but I could clearly make out a conversation when some guards passed by to take away a recovered patient:

“And the boy? Isn’t he recovering?” a guard inquired.

“Well—I’m afraid this one won’t get out of jail on two legs,” the doctor replied.

And indeed, I did not come out on two legs, but I came out alive. Two days later, the first Thunderday of Squalls came, and my sentence ended. But not my ordeal. I barely noticed when guards lifted me out of the infirmary and led me to the main gate. Familiar faces appeared. I recognized the face of the bearded man and that of the giant tattooed man. The bearded man said something to me that my mind, numb with pain, did not understand. Then the giant took me in his arms, and they got me out of there.

They took me to The Ballerinas. The tavern was not very far from the prison, and the journey seemed short. In fact, everything seemed both short and long. They laid me on the same bed as last time, and I saw the bearded man open his mouth and close it again. His eyebrows were furrowed with concern. He asked me a question. Then the Blue One came up and touched my forehead. Almost immediately, she drew back with a sharp cry.

“He’s in pain,” she gasped.

I tried to tell them why, but no sound came from my throat. Then there was a noise in the corridor. I heard voices shouting. And someone growled:

“Let me through! I know him. I know what’s happening to him. Please, let me through.”

A few moments later, I saw a very familiar face. It was Yalet. I saw him take out a black pill, and although the bearded man tried to stop him, he put it in my mouth.

“But what on the devils did you give him?” the bearded man cried.

Yal pouted and did not look away from me.

“It’s a med,” he said at last.

“A med, my beard! That’s drugs, that’s what it is,” the bearded man hissed through his teeth.

Yal did not reply, and he smiled when he saw that I blinked and stopped convulsing. My heart was still racing. I stammered:

“Water.”

“I’ll bring you some right away,” the Blonde said.

Yal grabbed me by the shoulder.

“Sari, how are you?”

“Elassar,” I whispered.

I saw him shake his head and sigh with relief.

“Mothers of the Light, you sure are good at getting in trouble.”

I smiled. Now I was feeling better, much better.

“Diver told me that every self-respecting gwak stays at Carnation at least once.”

I cleared my throat, for my voice seemed frighteningly weak, and I tried to breathe more calmly as the bearded man said:

“Who are you? I’m warning you, if you’re the one who started drugging him, I’m gonna kick you out of here and fast.”

Yalet finally turned his head towards him and gave an exasperated grunt.

“I’d like to know who you are. I was waiting for Draen outside Carnation, and I saw you carrying him that way… Devils, for a moment I thought you were taking him to the cemetery. Who are you? How do you know Draen and why did you bring him here?”

The bearded man watched him with a pensive pout before answering:

“I am Kakzail Malaxalra, an escaped gladiator warrior from the kingdom of Tassia. And I have offered to tutor this boy for a time. That’s why I brought him here: he’s under my protection. And, in my opinion, he needs it.”

Yal looked at him as if waiting for some other explanation. Feeling my strength return, I looked up at the other people in the room. They were all there: the girl twins, the giant, and the redheaded caitian. The latter two were looking at the young Black Dagger with wary expressions, while the Blonde was just now leaning over to offer me the glass of water I had asked for. I sat up smiling.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

I drank as Yal inhaled, nodding.

“Okay. I don’t know what deal you have with Draen, but I’m asking you to allow him to decide if he wants to stay here or… if he wants to come with me.”

“Impossible,” Kakzail replied. “Listen, friend: the authorities had put the boy on the lists to be sent to the charity house for vagrants. Without my intervention, he would have been sent there, so I’m sorry to disappoint you, but the boy stays here. I understand your caution: we don’t know each other. But I assure you that I will take good care of the boy. And, in any case, I, for one, won’t drug him.”

Yal gave him a patient pout, and before he had time to respond, I interjected:

“Yal. They’re not bad people. They’re looking for someone, and they think I can help them, that’s all. And I… I’d like to help them. I really would. But I can’t.”

“You know where our friend is,” the Blue One pronounced. She stood at the foot of the bed, staring at me. Her inhuman eyes seemed to be telling me: don’t lie to me.

I swallowed and nodded.

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“I know where he is.”

The blonde had just taken the glass of water, and hearing me, she stifled a gasp.

“Demons… You know where he is?”

I felt a little ashamed that the Blonde had actually believed me when I told her I didn’t know anything. It wasn’t every day you found someone willing to take the word of a gwak. I sighed and turned to Yal. He was looking at all of us, puzzled.

“Tell us where he is, and we’ll leave you alone,” the Blue woman insisted.

“Calm down, darlings,” Kakzail interjected. “I don’t know if this is the best time to talk: the boy just got out of jail—”

“Why can’t you tell us where he is?” the Blonde inquired, interrupting the warrior.

I looked down at my hands. Blasthell. And what could I say to them now? I let out a long sigh and lay down.

“Because…” I clear my throat. “Because, if he leaves, thirty-two gwaks are going to have to spend their lives taking karuja. And karuja ain’t cheap.”

There was a silence, and then Yal said incredulously:

“Don’t tell me… You mean the alchemist?”

As the attention turned to Yalet, who had just confirmed that he knew Dessari Wayam, I felt exhausted. I had not slept for, I think, maybe four days. Aware that I had just passed the problem on to Yal, I put on an innocent face and, surrendering to my exhaustion, closed my eyes. What would Yal do now? Tell them everything or keep quiet? Well, whatever he said, he’d probably do better than me. I was so tired that I wouldn’t have even flinched if Estergat had been sunk into the depths of the earth at that moment.

Finally, I heard Kakzail say:

“It will be better if we let the boy sleep. If you don’t mind, young man, I’d like to invite you in for a drink. I think we have some things to talk about. Or rather, Zoria, you, and Zalen have things to talk about.” I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Go to sleep, boy, and get your strength back.”

I pretended to sleep. I heard no answer from Yal, but I heard footsteps in the room. When the door closed, I listened for a moment to the silence, opened one eye, and met the eyes of Sarpas, the tattooed giant. He was sitting on the next bed with his elbows on his knees and a pensive expression. He smiled slightly at me, then turned serious, and said:

“Drugs are bad.”

He had a horrible accent. I nodded slowly. After a silence, I asked:

“Why do you have so many tattoos?”

“Oh,” Sarpas smiled. “A wizard from Tassia did this to me. The whole body. Before… they were magical tattoos. Now… almost no more.”

I let out a breath as I gazed at the strange patterns on his uncovered skin. Did they cover the rest of his body too?

“Are you from Tassia?” I inquired.

“Ah, yes, from Tassia,” Sarpas affirmed. “But, when I was a boy, me, from the north. Very far north. They call me Sarpas the Malu. Malu means… northern in Tassian. I was made a slave. Kakzail and I are… We were gladiators.”

“Gladiators?” I repeated. “What’s that?”

“Oh.” He took on a look of concentration, as if he were looking for a way to explain it. “Well. Warriors who are in a… court and, bam, they fight with weapons, you know? We used to put on shows. We were slaves. But we got free… like a fox,” he smiled, mimicking the gait of someone sneaking out with his hand. “Less than… a year ago. That’s why, my Drionsan is… pretty bad,” he admitted.

He seemed happy, despite everything, to be speaking in Drionsan, and I returned his smile before closing my eyes again and huffing:

“I’m tired.”

“Then sleep, ushkra,” Sarpas said. “I remember. My mother used to say: the dreams of a child fly innocent and free like the yarack.”

I smiled, for it was the first time that I had heard anyone other than my Master and myself speak of the yarack, the colorful mountain bird. I repeated the funny words of the northerner to myself and finally fell asleep.

* * *

When I woke up, I felt rested and almighty well. It took me a moment to understand why. I opened my eyes, yawned… and then it dawned on me. I was lying on a feather mattress, in a warm room, and I had slept at least twelve hours in a row, if not more, since it was already dark. I smiled to myself. And I looked around. The other beds were occupied. Everyone was asleep. Except for the Blonde: Zalen was sitting on the windowsill. The bluish light of the Gem illuminated her opaline face.

After a moment’s hesitation, I straightened up, slid down the bed, and approached cautiously.

“Ma’am,” I whispered.

The blonde’s eyes turned to me. Unlike her sister’s, they looked warm and natural. I added:

“Can I go out on the street?”

It seemed right to ask permission. The blonde became confused.

“Why do you want to go out on the street at this hour?” she muttered.

“I’m hungry,” I explained.

The Blonde pouted understandingly.

“I see. Well, before, I brought you a tray, in case you woke up for dinner. As you didn’t wake up, Sarpas and Kakz ate it.” She smiled. “But they left you the bread. It’s over there.”

She pointed to the little table, and still not believing it, I went over and found that there was indeed a bun there. I took a bite and returned to my bed. I finished the bun, and it did not seem much to me, but it satisfied my hunger, and gradually the hunger pangs subsided. I returned to Zalen and bit my tongue before asking:

“What did Yal tell you?”

Zalen shook her head.

“Lots of things, but not enough. He refused to tell us where the alchemist is. But he promised us he would tell him about us.”

Blasthell, I muttered inwardly. I hoped Yal knew what he was doing… I didn’t think the alchemist was a devil, but I couldn’t be sure he’d keep looking for a cure for gwaks forever. If he got away, we’d be in big trouble.

I leaned against the wall and gazed at the Gem for a moment before clouds obscured it. Then Zalen said gently:

“He told us about the salbronix mine and the sokwata.”

I looked down, ran my tongue over my dry lips and nodded silently. I suspected as much. But I didn’t want to talk about it at all.

“And my cronies?” I asked. “They have come to see you, haven’t they?”

Zalen frowned, not understanding.

“Your cronies?”

“Oh. A little dark elf and one of those called devil-eyes,” I explained. “They’re my comrades from the newspapers. I sent them to warn you that I had been pinched.”

Zalen shook her head.

“I don’t know who you mean. A boy came by. Said he was a mate of yours. A young one… rather theatrical. He wore a top hat, but otherwise he was as disheveled as you. He didn’t say his name.” I caught her smile as she added, “He said you asked the gwakery to tell us that you’d been incarnationed. It took us a while to figure out what that funny word meant.”

I tried to guess who the gwak in the top hat was, but it was no use.

“You should continue to rest,” Zalen added after a silence. “There are still two hours to go before it’s light.”

Despite the urge to go outside to get some fresh air and look for my little family, I decided to listen to the Blonde and was about to go back to my bed when curiosity held me back.

“Are you from the north too?” I asked.

Zalen smiled.

“No. Not at all. My sister and I are from the west.”

“From the mountains?” I asked, enthused.

“From beyond,” she whispered. “From far beyond.”

This puzzled me, but as her eyes wandered to the light of the Gem, I left her alone and returned to my comfortable bed. I groped for the blankets and the soft pillow. Blasthell, what a difference from prison! I smiled broadly in the darkness and reached out to listen to the breaths of the others who were sleeping placidly. I was out of Carnation. And I was… free, wasn’t I? The warden wasn’t going to appear in the morning to accuse me of complicity in the escape… was he? I dismissed my apprehensions as nonsense. I was free, my conviction was complete, and they had proved nothing. I had no need to worry, no need to hide in the Cat Quarter. I suppressed my instincts to flee and armed myself with patience.

I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, and the Blonde didn’t move from her seat. Obviously she was not tired either. As the sky began to clear, the city’s rumble intensified, and then I heard a noise in the room and opened my eyes. The bearded man was dressing. I saw him fastening his belt, and just before he put on the purple headband I noticed the scar on his forehead. Probably he had gotten it during those gladiatorial “shows”. I met his eyes and saw him smile as he stretched.

“Ah! Good morning, boy. How are you?”

I straightened up.

“Wind in the sails, but hollow in the stomach; but that’s easily fixed, now that I’m free,” I smiled and emphasized the last word, giving him a questioning look.

Kakzail pouted.

“Yeah. Listen, before you disappear off to wherever, I’d like to talk to you. What do you think about us fixing the hollow stomach problem at the same time?”

I smiled, delighted. I wasn’t going to refuse such a kind offer, was I?

“It runs,” I agreed.