Chapter 11
It was still hotter outside than inside, which made going back inside something to look forward to. I followed Drakeforth through the dusty streets, carefully avoiding eye contact with the irregular paving stones.
“Yes, quite different,” he said.
“What?” I hurried to catch up.
“Nothing.”
“Where are we going to start our search?” I asked.
“Bombilate had an interest in forbidden things. So we will go to the source and work our way backwards or forwards from there.”
“That sounds… What’s the term for something that isn’t lethally dangerous, but is hugely inadvisable?”
“Crocodile dentistry?”
“Not exactly what I was thinking of, but metaphorically appropriate, I suppose.”
We descended into a swirling maelstrom of brightly coloured people wearing dusty clothes. They clumped together around a variety of market stalls sold a variety of food and vacuum cleaners. Most of the trading seemed to done in low murmurs, punctuated by the occasional exchange of folded notes.
I truly felt like a tourist among the natives with their loose-fitting dust-and-wear clothing. Keeping track of Drakeforth in the bustling market was easy enough: his hat and his air of general contempt for the world glowed like an aura.
Flies swarmed and buzzed around a section of the market selling meat. I raised a hand to brush away a fly intent on examining my eyelashes. A breath of chill air raised the hairs on my neck and the dark-haired woman stood beside me. Her icy hand held my wrist in a death grip, and I gasped at the sudden shock of it. She shook her head as the fly finished its inspection and flew off to crawl on someone else.
With a deft dip she retrieved the guidebook from my bag and held it open, displaying an easy-to-follow infographic that detailed how flies are sacred in Pathia.
The punishment for the crime of striking a fly looked to be painful and messy, even rendered in clip-art icons.
“Thanks…” I whispered, looking around furtively to see if anyone had noticed my brush with the law.
“Put that away.” Drakeforth pushed the book back into my bag.
“Sorry, I almost hit a fly. Apparently that would be a bad idea.”
“Very bad. Worse is flashing a book around in public. It’s like waving your credit stick or fanning yourself with bundles of cash.”
“Oh… She’s here again, the woman.”
“Try to keep up, Pudding.” Drakeforth took me by the arm and guided me through the crowd. We left the silent woman standing in the market, until the crowd and flies obscured her from view.
“Where are we going?” I asked. “You mentioned a forbidden place?”
“The centre of the Pathian civilisation. The single most important place in the entire country.”
“An ice factory?”
“The ancient ruins of the city of Errm.”
“That’s the source of all forbidden things in Pathia?” I whispered.
“Exactly. It is also where we start our search for the missing informist.
“Perhaps he went to a pub?” It seemed like a long shot, but hope insisted I suggest it.
“Unlikely, though I applaud your lateral thinking, Pudding.”
“Is it far, this ruined city?”
“It all depends on how you perceive distance.”
“Drakeforth,” I said in as sweet a voice as I could muster. “Tell me how far it actually is, or I swear, I will not rest until your name and contact details are on every Arthurian mailing list I can find.”
“You wouldn’t!?” Drakeforth fell silent as I smiled beatifically at him. “It’s a few miles. Would you rather take a litter than walk?”
“In this heat? I would rather stay in the hotel and build an air conditioner out of toothpicks. Though if we must go, then, yes, by litter, please.”
We reached the edge of the market, where it bled into the surrounding maze of narrow streets and sandcastle architecture.
Drakeforth whistled at a group of young, athletic types who were leaning against a wall, a covered platform beside them.
“Two for the ruins of Errm,” Drakeforth explained.
“Whaddyaknow?” one of the youths asked, sizing us up with the contempt of the adolescent.
“I know plenty,” Drakeforth replied.
“You don’t say?” the youth countered.
“No, I don’t. Not until it’s time to pay the fare.”
“From here to the ruins? That’s gonna cost you.”
“Well, get your litter mates and let’s get moving then. Pay attention, you may earn something.”
The youth nodded slowly and then jerked his head at his lolling friends. They got up and lifted the litter onto their shoulders. In a synchronised movement, they sank to one knee, positioning the litter for us to board.
“Thank you for choosing Kitteh’s litter services, we believe in the human touch,” the youth said in a practiced way as we took our seats under a canopy of light fabric that protected us from the glare.
I gasped, reflexively clutching Drakeforth’s hand as the litter rose, and our carriers swayed under us.
“Relax, Pudding. We are on the shoulders of professionals. Besides, it’s against the law to drop litter in Pathia.”