| |
TALI HEARD HIM FROM 500 strides away. She also heard the crash he created as he tipped a market stall on his way. Padg returned breathless at a clip, barged through bewildered guards at the front gates, jumped into the river pipe with a splash, and swam upstream to avoid being followed.
It was twelve hundred clicks before he arrived soggy and panting, back in their hideout.
“I guess we’d better move on sooner rather than later,” Tali said.
“Huh?” Padg dried himself on a sacking rag.
“Well, after that performance everyone knows we’re here.”
“They’ll still never find us; this hiding place is great.”
“Yeah, but now they know there’s someone to find. Some guard might get lucky.”
“I guess,” Padg said and passed Tali the rag.
“What did you find out?”
She winced at the dampness on the rag. At least it was less damp than she was.
“All of the servants are being locked into rooms after Work-cycle.”
“Gods.”
“Yeah, the conditions aren’t great.”
“Did you find Amber?”
“No, but I did find a few Folk who said she was alive, but they wouldn’t tell me any more than that.”
“Fear of reprisals?”
“No, I think they trusted we weren’t Stone-folk, but I think she’s become the focus of protests.”
“A rebel leader?”
“I guess.”
“Wow, who’d have thought?”
Padg made a neutral grunt noise, then said, “Do we have a plan if I didn’t find her?”
“I think we help the servants don’t we?”
“Hells, that’s a bit of leap,”
“Is it?”
“Yeah, it’s one thing to sneak in and try to extract one person. That we could do between us. But to free everyone? All at once? That’s going up against all the Stone-folk, and it’s going to take an army.”
“Hmm, let me think a while,” Tali said.
Padg broke out some fish he’d caught and Tali paced. Padg chewed.
“Whanfff somff?” he said.
“NO.”
Padg chewed with increasing loudness.
“Enough!”
“Whaff?” Padg said as wounded as he could manage with his mouth stuffed.
“Ok, I’ll eat.”
She sat down and ate. There were fish and really great hubbous that Padg had liberated from the market. After washing it down with some water, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. In a hundred clicks, she had slid down against Padg gently and was snoring quietly. Padg put his arm around her and drifted off himself.
––––––––
PADG WOKE UP TO A GHASTLY smell.
“Gods, that fish didn’t agree with you,” he said.
Tali laughed. There were noises of pouring and mixing. “Sorry, I did think about putting nose plugs in you while you slept, but you were snoring so loudly, I thought I might suffocate you.”
“I’m guessing you’ve had a plan then?”
“Yeah.”
“Care to share?”
“Yeah, but gimmie a minute, okay? There’s hubbous left from yesterday, and there are nose plugs in the side pocket of my pack.”
“That steam vent hot enough to make racta, you think? I scored some powder from the market yesterday.”
“You’ve become quite the little thief, haven’t you,” Tali said.
“Well, what with the prices and how few folks there are out I’d have thought they’d be glad of the trade.”
Tali laughed. “Nearly there... and done.”
There was the sound of a cork bung squeaking into a flask and what could only be described as a sigh of smugness from Tali. Padg poured racta into beakers. It wasn’t hot enough but the taste was acceptable.
“So,” Padg said.
“So?”
“Gonna let me in on the plan?”
“Ah yes,” Tali said. “Plague.”
Padg spat out the racta. “What?”
“Anosmic plague.”
“You’re insane.”
“Why thank you. I was rather proud of that one myself.”
“And now explain.”
“Well,” Tali said, “the Anosmic plague virus attacks the mucous membranes. The host loses all sense of smell, and then the virus replicates inside them so fast that the carrier’s body rots from the inside. All the time before the host dies, huge wafts of the virus are borne upon the smell of the person decomposing. Anosmic plague has a unique smell...”
“Which I presume is this smell that’s interfering with my racta?”
“The very same.”
“Nice. So you’re going to give everyone the plague?”
“No, but by the time I’ve finished, they’ll think they have. I’ve found a rather nice plant combo that matches the smell beautifully, and then there’s a carrier oil that makes it hang around for ages.”
“Great, we’re going to smell like this for spans then?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. How do we deliver it?”
“I was hoping we could get it to the middle of the market. I’ve got some pottery flasks that will smash beautifully.”
“Sneaking in the front again?”
“No. I rather thought we’d avoid that and unscrew this grill and go in the nearest way. We’re not going to need a hiding place again either way, are we?”
“That all sounds a bit final.”
“You in? You don’t have to do this.”
The bell for start of work cycle for the Stone-folk rang out through the grill. The sound of weary footsteps began in the marketplace. Guards shouting instructions. A Tinkrala priest’s ululating call, inviting people to prayer.
“Okay. I’m in.”
They set to work huddled together gently and quietly removing the grill, taking care not to make extraneous noise or sudden moves. The grill was much more firmly affixed than either of them had factored on. Long, heavy bolts with unusually shaped heads made for slow work. By the time the last bolt came loose, they had eaten again and the bell for the end of work cycle had rung.
“That’s the last, one,” Padg said.
“Should we move now or wait?” Tali said.
“Now’s as fine a time as any.”
“I guess.”
“You good?” Padg said.
“All packed. Flasks ready.”
“Let’s do it,” Padg said.
“Hey,” Tali said.
“Yeah?”
She pulled him close and kissed him.
“Y’know,” she said, “just in case.”
“Yeah.”
He pulled the freed bolts loose. The grill dropped down with less of a clunk than he’d imagined, must be plants growing in the cracks, he thought. Padg slid it to one side and twitched his nose into the air, sniffing this way and that.
“Clear, I think. Hard to smell anything above the stuff,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”
He climbed out and reached a hand into Tali.
“Thanks.”
“Which way?”
“Between the stalls? All the main lanes in and out will be guarded.”
Where the Bridge-folk had Rope-ways underfoot as the main thoroughfares, here they had the Stone-lanes: different textured pathways carved for routes to and from each important gathering place.
They crawled and edged past the diverse stalls of the Stone-folk. Despite the work/home rush, it seemed that trade was still sparse. The only small crowd was outside a Tinkrala temple, where a weird talisman of woven wires seemed to be being sold as religious icons. They headed to the center of the market, where a large terraced stone amphitheater filled the space. It was used for announcements, meetings, auctions, and entertainment. It too was weirdly empty.
Tali and Padg crawled out from between two stalls built from piles of rocks assembled in waist-high rectangles. They stretched themselves out and Air-sensed the area. A small cluster of guards murmured quietly fifty or so strides away. A slight breeze wafted racta smells toward them.
“Quickly, now’s our chance.” Tali strode toward the amphitheater. Padg followed in time to hear her gasp. She fell forward tumbling head over heels down the terrace. All Padg could do was jog as fast as he could, following her without tripping himself. Behind him, he could hear the guards reacting. Tali came to a halt at the bottom level with a crunch. Padg caught up, the smell of Tali’s Anosmia gas enveloping them like a cloud. Shouts had already rung out from the top layer of the bowl for more guards.
Padg lifted his head and Air-sensed around. Four staircases, one in each of the cardinal points, three with a guard coming down. But there was no way to leave Tali and he wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand anyway.
“Tali?” he whispered in her ear, shaking her gently. Out cold. She must have banged her head in the tumble.
Twenty strides away the guards called out, “Can we assist?”
“No, thanks, we’re fine,” Padg said.
“I don’t think so,” the guard said. There was an authority in the voice. A sergeant? A leader certainly.
The guard closed, stone-tipped spear first. Padg could feel two others closing behind him and hear others at the top of the bowl.
“Stand up. Slowly. Hands on your head.” He jabbed the spear point, careful not to puncture, to ensure compliance. “Your friend too.”
“She can’t.”
“Oh?”
“I think she hurt herself in the fall.”
“Hmm.” He turned to a subordinate. “Get medics, please. Have them meet us at the garret.”
The garret appeared to be a makeshift prison made of stone pillars, on one edge of the central market clearing, above the amphitheater. Three pillars to a side with too small a gap to squeeze past. Padg was pushed through the fourth side, and then a group of guards lifted the last pillar into place completing the last side. Open roofed, but too high to climb out, this was a simple yet effective prison.
“Shreds.”
