City of Hope and Despair (3 page)

  The old man was probably right. What might take a little more getting used to was the nature of the companions chosen to accompany him.

  He wished fervently that some of the old crew were going, the Blue Claw, even Barton with his boasting of improbable deeds and his cocky swagger. But the Claw were gone like so many of the traditional street-nick gangs, their members scattered or detained. Perhaps they would regroup in time and rebuild, but even if they did so it would be without him. Tom was coming to accept the bitter fact that he didn't have a place among the nicks anymore, that the streets were no longer his home.

  Funny, being a street-nick was a grim and desperate existence at the best of times, yet here he was regretting the loss of that life. The thing he missed most was the companionship, that sense of being a part of something, of belonging. His time with the Blue Claw might have been hard, but they'd all suffered that hardship together and had been able to draw strength from one another. He'd forged true friendships with kids of around his own age, and that more than anything else was what his life had lacked in recent days – the comfort of such closeknit friendships. Since being taken under the prime master's wing he had seen so many wondrous things and learned so much, and he was certainly living far better than he'd ever expected in his wildest dreams.

  Yet none of that stopped him from feeling lonely.

  More even than the Claw, he missed Kat. He'd only known the renegade nick for a few days but they'd been through a lot together. With her flashy black clothes, sassy attitude, twin short swords and a wealth of experience far beyond her years, she was one of the proudest, fiercest and bravest people he'd ever known and he would willingly have trusted her with his life. If it had been just the two of them setting off on this journey he'd have felt a lot happier, but he hadn't seen her since she left him with the Blade and didn't even know whether she'd survived the final chaos of that fateful day. Instead of Kat, he'd been lumbered with a right pair of oddballs, neither of whom he knew.

  That was the most unsettling aspect of this whole business. He was embarking on a venture that would take him far beyond the city, on a journey to places that lacked even the solidity of fables but were instead complete unknowns, a trip that seemed more likely to take months than days, and he was expected to do this in the company of two complete strangers.

  The prime master had selected them personally, and he had learned to respect the elderly man and to trust him. But that venerable gentleman was not the one who was going to have to travel and live with this pair. Tom was.

  As if on cue, the first of these two companions wandered over to join Tom and the prime master, or rather to tower over them. Kohn was a veritable giant, standing roughly twice as high as a full-grown man – taller even than one of the Blade. Tom still remembered the first time he'd met him, just a few days previously. "This is Kohn," the prime master had said almost casually, as if trying to convince Tom that here was someone he just knew was destined to become a firm friend. All Tom could do was gape. His surprise didn't end with Kohn's size, because this was not just
any
giant, but rather a bald one-eyed giant, whose Cyclopean eye was rheumy and opaque. The huge figure was clearly blind.

  "Kohn is one of the Kayjele, a long-lived race who make their home in the northern mountains," the prime master went on to explain as the giant came to stand before them, almost as if at attention.

  "I know you," Tom had murmured.

  His mind instantly raced back to the walls, where he had been fleeing a murder scene, stumbling along a kinked corridor to emerge into a large chamber where a vast, heart-like contraption beat and pulsed. The daunting contrivance, which he had since learned to be one of many pumps used to circulate water around the city, had been tended by this same creature or its twin. On that occasion the baleful gaze of that great, milky eye had sent the young street-nick scuttling away in terror.

  When seen in the full light of day with the whole world open before him, the giant seemed much less intimidating, though he was still far from Tom's ideal choice of travelling companion.

  The former street-nick now knew that Kohn had just finished a term of indentured service to the city and was about to embark on a journey back to his homeland. Since this meant he would be travelling a course that paralleled Tom's own for much of the way, the prime master thought it only sensible that they should travel together.

  Sensible, perhaps; but definitely not good for his nerves, for all that the old man assured him Kohn was reliable. Tom also wondered how the giant was going to manage the journey when he couldn't see. When he'd asked the prime master this, he was told: "Kohn
is
able to see, Tom, though I daresay the world appears very differently to him than to you or I. He sees with his mind. All his people are capable of this, but in his case the ability is far more acute, no doubt developing that way to compensate for his lack of normal vision. Don't worry, Kohn won't slow you down in the least. In fact, quite the contrary. His unusual perspective may even prove to be of benefit."

  Tom would never admit to doubting the prime master, yet he felt far from convinced, notwithstanding cryptic references to "unusual perspectives". He was beginning to regret agreeing to this expedition in the first place; or rather he regretted allowing himself to be talked into it; he wasn't sure he had ever actually
agreed
as such.

  The giant now stood with them outside the city walls, silent and unmoving, his face looking directly at Tom, presumably 'seeing' him despite the opaqueness of that single central eye. For his part, Tom went to speak, then hesitated, remembering that, in addition to being blind, the giant couldn't reply. "Kohn is mute, so won't necessarily be the liveliest of company," the prime master had explained. "But he can hear and understand you perfectly well and will make his meaning clear with gestures when necessary."

  His other companion didn't promise to be much of an improvement on the giant either.

  As if on cue, Dewar, the man in question, was coming towards them at that moment, walking up from the banks of the Thair. The great river flowed in majestic splendour a short distance downslope from them, vanishing into the brief canyon which developed into a broad cavern mouth: the entrance to the City Below.

  Dewar was among the least remarkable people Tom had ever met. A little more meat on his bones than the average inhabitant of the City Below, so presumably he came from up-City somewhere, one of the more comfortable Rows, but otherwise he could have blended in just about anywhere. On the younger side of middle age, a tad on the shorter side of medium height with slightly receding brown hair, he had a rounded, homely face and a very ordinary physique. Yet the prime master had assured Tom that this man was more than capable of looking after himself. If so, his outward appearance certainly offered no clue. As far as Tom could see, the only features which seemed even remotely noteworthy were the man's eyes. Living on the streets, as Tom had for most of his life, you learned to judge people quickly and the eyes were often the most important indicator. Dewar's were intelligent; more than that, there was a coldness in their depths and an intensity in their stare which caused Tom to give an involuntary shiver and led him to reconsider his assessment. Perhaps after all there was a little more to this man than immediately seemed apparent.

  As he watched Dewar approach, he couldn't help but wish that the prime master had thought to send at least one familiar face along on this venture. A selfish thought and one which probably showed his age, but he didn't care.

  "The barge has arrived," Dewar said to the prime master with a typical lack of deference that irritated Tom.

  If Tom could find one redeeming aspect to the whole venture, this was surely it – he was finally getting a chance to go on a boat. Tom had often watched the great barges unloading at the docks or riding the deep centre of the Thair as they came and went along the river, sitting low in the water due to their loads and then riding high once relieved of them. The young Tom had dreamed of some day going on one of those boats, and here was his chance. Their ill-assorted group were to travel the first part of the journey aboard one of the huge vessels, which was making an unscheduled stop at the little-used dock outside the city walls in order to pick them up. A measure arranged by the prime master to avoid attention, which suggested to Tom that all was not yet as secure in the City Below as some would like to claim.

  The boy felt a jolt of excitement at hearing the barge was already there waiting for them, waiting for
him
, and it was all he could do not to run down the track to see it.

  "Tom?"

  He was checked by a woman's voice calling from the direction of the city, a voice which sounded oddly familiar. He turned to look back and saw two figures approaching. One he recognised as Thomas, recently installed on the Council of masters, the highest rung of Thaiburley's government. The other wore the green of a Thaistess, the representatives in the city of the goddess Thaiss, or so it was claimed. Tom had little faith in such things for all that his feelings towards the Thaistesses had softened following recent events. When he thought to look beyond the robes at the woman who wore them, Tom suddenly realised that he
did
know her.

  "Mildra!" Here was the young Thaistess who had tended him in the aftermath of his hard-fought battle against one of the Dog Master's creatures.

  She laughed, reminding him how young she was to be wearing the green of a full priestess and how patient and kind she had been in the face of his surliness and suspicion. "Is that a smile, Tom? Don't tell me you're actually pleased to see
me
, a Thaistess." Her grin robbed the words of any sting.

  He looked down, sheepishly. "Sorry about last time, and right now I'm happy to see
any
familiar face." He said the words quietly, so that the prime master and Dewar, who were conversing with Thomas close by, wouldn't hear.

  "Oh dear."

  She didn't say it in a way that suggested he was being unreasonable or childish, or in any sense selfish. So the feeling that he was must have been wholly of his own making.

  The young Thaistess positioned herself deliberately so that her back was towards the small knot of other people, standing between Tom and them as if to emphasise that this conversation was private. "Sometimes, when there are things that need to be done, it's easy to lose sight of the cost for those involved, of how difficult the things we expect from a particular person might be."

  He understood what she meant. "I know the prime master means well and that he has the whole of Thaiburley to worry about, but…"

  "But you don't really want to go on this journey."

  "No." This was the first time he had admitted as much to anybody, and the word emerged as a whisper.

  Mildra took a deep breath and then said, "Let me talk to him. It doesn't matter how important he deems this to be, he can't ride roughshod over your feelings and your needs like this. Not after everything you've already done for the city. We haven't actually set out as yet so it isn't too late to call the whole trip off. Leave this to me." She went to move away, towards the prime master and the others.

  "Do
you
think it is? Important, I mean," he said quickly, stopping her.

  The girl hesitated, before saying, "I won't lie to you, Tom; yes, I rather suspect it is."

  "Wait a minute," the rest of what Mildra had said penetrated his thoughts, "did you say
we
?" He suddenly noted the bag she was carrying, a rucksack as green as her robe so that it tended to blend in with her clothing.

  "Yes," and her grin was as broad as the Thair, "I was intending to go with you. Didn't anyone mention that?"

  "No… no they didn't."

  "Well, since you were going in search of the goddess Thaiss, the very heart of everything we teach and believe in, it seemed only natural that a Thaistess should accompany you. And as the youngest and, perhaps – how can I put this? – most flexibly-minded of my sisterhood, I was chosen."

  "Oh." Tom found himself smiling. He didn't really know Mildra well, but she had shown herself to be a warm and generous person and had helped him when he'd most needed help. At some instinctive level he both trusted and liked her, despite her being a Thaistess. All of a sudden, knowing that she was going to be there as well, the trip didn't seem nearly so daunting. And there was still the lure of going on a barge…

  "Mildra," he blurted out, before he could change his mind, "please don't say anything. Forget my moaning. If this journey really is that important, and if you're willing to go all that way, then I guess I am too."

  She stared at him for a silent second, before asking, "Are you sure about this?"

  He looked her unblinkingly in the eye. "Yes."

  "Right," said the prime master, coming over to join them, "are we all ready then?"

  "Ready," Tom replied, and was surprised to discover that he meant it.

The prime master watched with troubled heart as the small party disappeared towards the Thair and the waiting barge. There was so much at stake here, and he had just gambled with four people's lives despite having no real idea of the dangers confronting them. He felt himself to be a man involved in a game of chance in which the other players could see his hand while he remained blind to theirs and didn't even fully grasp the rules.

  Evidently, he wasn't the only one with reservations. "Are you sure this is wise?" Thomas asked from beside him.

  He raised his eyebrows. "Ah, Thomas, now there's a question."

  "I suppose you're going to tell me that wisdom is grossly overrated."

  "No, far from it. Wisdom is deserving of the greatest respect and is something we're in the habit of dismissing far too readily. It's merely my capacity for wisdom that I would question. Is this wise? Sending an ill-matched quartet quietly off into the unknown, without fuss or fanfare, without military escort or any of the Blade to watch over them?" He shook his head. "I really don't know."