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“WE JUST CAN’T GO BACK? What kind of cryptic shaman nonsense is that you’re talking now, Dun?” Padg said.
“I don’t know,” Dun said. “I just found myself saying it. I don’t know where it came from.”
“Well, can you kindly refrain from just saying things that haven’t been through the conscious part of your brain because it’s beginning to creep me out!”
“Okay. Sorry.”
“What now?” Tali said.
“Do we think he knew we were there?” Dun said.
“Nah,” Padg said, “we were careful, didn’t say much at all. Didn’t even smell like us.”
“I’ve noticed his smell-sense isn’t that great anyhow,” Tali said.
“He’s a wily one though that Myrch. I wouldn’t put it past him to somehow know,” said Dun.
“No somehow knowing is your job,” Padg said. “Woooooohhh!”
`”Oh give it up you two, this is serious. What do we still need to do before we go and find Myrch, if indeed we still want to go and find him? I for one want to check that market out properly for some any reagents I might be able to use. There’s stuff from my kit I could do with refreshing and, who knows, way out here, I might find something unusual. You two might manage some useful reconnaissance of what’s ahead of us, maybe find out a little more about the fire-people?”
“Do we want to go and find him?” Padg said. “Not sure I’m that keen.”
“I think we have to,” Dun said. “If what he said has wider implications for other folk, ours for example, then we don’t want to let him know that we’ve overheard. We need him to think we’re unaware for as long as possible.”
“We don’t need to meet him just yet though, do we?” Padg said.
“No, I don’t think so,” Dun said. “Right now he just thinks we’re lost, or still stuck on the raft. Or he’s forgotten about us for now. When it enters his mind again, he’ll come after us. Until then, let’s make the most of it.”
The Throng was less dense when they returned to it. That was somehow more unsettling than the experience of a full-on crush of not completely trustworthy folk. When they were in the thick of it Dun noticed the odd ululating noise again. It was quite faint the first time they visited the market, just one note in a song, but now it was a whole tune to itself. A new much nearer voice joined in loudly not far behind them. The trader that they were stood with where Tali was haggling over some form of rock or other, noticed Dun’s silence and abstraction.
“Tinkralas,” the trader said.
“Eh?” Dun said, the word not familiar at all. Even the sounds used were odd.
“New god around here. Followers call themselves Tinkralas. All do that odd singing thing at the same time mid-cycle, they sing at other times too, but everyone sings mid-cycle.”
“Recent thing?” Padg said, curious.
“Yeah,” the trader replied, “spread real quick too. Don’t hold with it myself, I’m an old-gods kind of folk. But each to their own, eh?”
Tali finished her business with the trader and the three moved on. The singing tailed off. A thoughtful silence hung over the three Bridge-folk. They moved on through the rest of the throng.
Tali said, “Have you got any room left in that map case of yours, Dun?”
“I think so, why?”
“Can we stop near the Bocado? I thought I heard a seller touting some stuff that might be worth reading.”
“Why? Is our charismatic company not enough entertainment for you?” Padg asked.
“Too much entertainment, sometimes,” she said. “No, it’s just there might be something interesting, you never know.”
“We never do,” Dun said. “Let’s go.”
After some time studying the wares of the scroll-seller, Tali haggled for a sheet that contained some kind of ancient recipe and a couple of history texts at which point Dun intervened, citing the capacity of his map case. They bought some kind of insect-related local delicacy and a bottle of mead each, then retreated to the hostel to assess their purchases.
Sitting around in the hostel room later, with the faint snoring of Padg in one corner and the faint scratching of Dun making more amendments to the map, Tali lay on the straw against one wall of the room. She made a humming noise of interested surprise.
“Hey check this out.” She tossed the scroll in the direction of the scratching.
“Careful!” Dun said half-catching, half-deflecting the roll and its bamboo inner.
“It’s mostly about general folklore, but there’s a mention of totems in there.”
“Oh, right...”
“Last but one paragraph.”
“I’ve got it. Oh yes, it says, ‘Sometimes totems aren’t always of imagined forms of the gods, there was an ancient fashion of the Stone-folks of the Gabbro dynasty to carve representations of stories, lays and folktales onto the surface of rounded stones.’”
“Sound familiar?”
“Should it?”
“Gods, for someone who’s a trainee shaman you can be immensely dense sometimes. It’s that thing you picked up at the Stone-folks market. That’s what it is. It’s a totem of some kind of tale, or...”
“Song,” Dun said.
“Yeah, or a song.”
“Definitely a song. It’s the Ballad of Yarra and Jarris. It’s the egg from the Ballad, ‘...And half was warm and half was black...’ The texture is different on one side than the other. Good gods. I wish I could remember the rest of the song.”
“Ask Padg when he wakes up; he’s the singer here,” Tali said.
“Hey! Shake your tail,” Dun shouted. “Might as well wake him now, it might be important.”
“Whaa..?” Padg said sleepily.
“What’s the rest of the Ballad of Yarra and Jarris?”
“Rest? Huh..? What are you on about?”
“Okay, listen carefully,” Tali said. “We’ve found something interesting in those books from the market, but we need you to fill us in on a detail.”
“You woke me up for music class?” Padg said, disbelieving.
“More like history class, really,” Dun said with a smirk in his voice.
“Great,” Padg said. “I hated history.”
“That’s enough reminiscing about our schooling,” Tali said. “How does the Ballad of Yarra and Jarris go?”
“Give me a second,” he said and cleared his throat.
“You don’t need to sing it,” Tali said, “just recite it for us.”
“Okay. Here it goes.”
“In the place of long ago, outside the egg upon its back
Yarra looked upon the deep—and her shimmered hair was black
Resplendent in the void and deep—and her shimmered hair was black.
Jaris came and warmed her heart—he came to her along the track
Came from the deep and warmed her heart—he came to her along the track.
They loved as one an eons breadth—and half was warm and half was black
They loved as none before or since—and half was warm and half was black.
And then a one came in between—she felt her heart begin to crack
The darkest face came in between—she felt her heart begin to crack.
Then he was gone and never seen—and none was warm and all was black
He faded went and never seen—and none was warm and all was black.
Then we climbed back inside the egg—how long to wait till he came back
Returned ourselves inside the egg—how long to wait till he came back?”
“Chuck the totem over here?” Tali said.
“Knowing what you’re like at catching things, not likely,” Dun said. “I’ll bring it and hand it. How’s that?”
“It’s definitely our song all right.” She felt the cool polished surface of one side and the textured surface of the other. “And half was warm and half was black. Clever.”
“Hey, pass it here,” Padg said. “I wonder.” There were fumbling noises from him exploring the surface. Then a sharp crack.
“What the..?” Dun said.
“I’ll be a river rat,” Padg said. “Get a load of this. Careful when you take it. It’s not how you found it.”
And that was true. Somehow when Dun got the egg back, it was in two halves along the mysterious divide of texture.
“How did you..?” Dun said.
“I thought about the line where it says, ‘We all climbed back inside the egg...’ and I wondered how literal the Stone-folk had been when they made this. Pretty literal is the answer. It twisted and pulled and twisted again and there you go. Feel the inside too.”
Dun did. “Wow! There’s some kind of pattern here, a motif. Here, Tali, you feel the other half. The pattern is on both sides. It's lots of intersecting lines. It feels like...”
“A map,” Tali said. “It’s a map.”
“I know I’m no expert at this, but I always felt like eco-systems were more finely balanced, more knife edge. Precarious, even. But here in the Dark, it seems like the creatures don’t just cling to their niche, they chisel it out. Fiercely, vibrantly. I’ve never felt the fight to be, to exist, so strongly as here, so close to the edge.”
Excerpts from <Distress Beacon SN-1853001>. Found by E.S.V. Vixen Terradate: 26102225.
