The Circle Line (13 page)

The man only grinned, although the pressure on his windpipe made it come out as a grimace.

Kya sighed and lifted her arm slightly higher. A look of panic crossed the man's face and he lifted a little higher in the air until the tips of his boots were only just touching the floor.

‘I'm dead if I tell you.’ he managed.

‘You must be confused about what's happening here.’ said Kya coolly.

The man slid further up the tree trunk. He was now unable to touch the ground and he began to choke and struggle. Kya held him firmly although she was already beginning to tire. She tried not to show it.

‘Ferus.’ the man groaned, trying to push against the invisible bonds that held him aloft by the throat.

Kya did not relieve the pressure.

‘Looking for the boy too.’ he gasped, his face flushing darker, his lips parted in a snarl.

Kya lessened the pressure on his neck and he took a great gasp of air before entering into a fit of coughing. She kept him held against the tree for a moment. Then, looking up, she raised her arm again. The man was lifted into the very top of the tall tree his legs kicking as he rose. Kya placed him on a branch that she judged was just strong enough to hold his weight, provided he didn't squirm. She called up to him.

‘Stop following me!’

Then she turned and walked away through the wood, quickly disappearing into the black night.

The man looked around wildly, gripping on to the branch as it bounced and creaked under his weight. The nearest branch was well out of reach. He was stuck.

Sam didn't feel like getting out of bed and stayed there for most of the morning. He knew that Weewalk wanted him to meet the mystic they had discussed the previous day, but he hated the thought of having to show someone else that he was completely without talent. Around midday Hadan forced him out, all but dragging him from beneath the sheets.

‘Come on.’ he said sternly ‘You're to meet Vallalar. Weewalk wants him to have a look at you.’

'Why do you care anyway? What difference does it make to you?' said Sam grouchily.

'The Riven want to kill you. That's their idea, not ours. You should be grateful that we've helped you this far. Vallalar might be able to take it further and actually help you defend yourself. Although I'm not entirely convinced that you deserve it! Perhaps we should just throw you to the garoul! Now get out of bed!'

Sam felt so miserable that he never wanted to move again but eventually he found himself in the room with the fireplace. Jēran wiped at glasses with a dirty rag and Weewalk was deep in conversation with an elderly man with wrinkled brown skin, a light grey beard and long white hair. They turned as Sam and Hadan entered the room.

‘Goodness me, but he is skinny isn't he?’ said the man in an accent which might have been Indian. His eyes twinkled kindly and Sam could not help but feel a little of his trepidation trickle away. ‘Come here, young man and let me take a look at you.’

Sam stepped forward. Vallalar rose and walked around him in a circle, stroking his beard as he did so. He turned to Weewalk ‘And you say he threw a garoul through a wall hard enough to kill it?’

‘Yes,’ said Weewalk. ‘I'm sure of it.’

‘Was there anyone else in the room?’

‘It was just the three of us.’

Vallalar turned his attention to Hadan. ‘So, you were there too were you? Hmmm,’ he studied Hadan carefully, ‘Ever showed any power yourself, Hadan?’

‘No.’ said Hadan softly ‘It definitely wasn't me.’

‘Are you sure?’ said Vallalar.

Sam had never seen Hadan look anything other than confident and composed even to the point of arrogance, but here he looked distinctly uncomfortable and unhappy.

There was an edge to his voice when he answered ‘Vallalar, it wasn't me, alright?’ He kept his eyes on the floor.

‘Well, if you’re sure.’ said Vallalar with a nod of his head, turning again to Sam. ‘Must have been you then.’ he said happily. ‘Come with me.’

Sam followed the elderly man into the small courtyard that sat at the centre of the building. The sky above was blue and the midday sun pushed down into the stone square. The fountain tinkled and goldfish swam in lazy circles in the pool underneath, bright orange against the dark water. Vallalar led them to a patch of shade against one wall. He sat down crossed his legs and closed his eyes with a sigh.

‘Good.’ he said, almost to himself. Opening his eyes he beckoned Sam to sit next to him. ‘Please, Samuel, sit down.’

Sam sat, crossing his legs too.

Vallalar spoke ‘Please close your eyes.’

Sam did as he was told.

‘Samuel, one of the powers that is possible with presence is the training of the mind to sense many different things around you and inside you. I have practised meditation for many years and can set my mind to wander free. As well as moving some objects with my mind, by telekinesis, I can study things that are not usually visible. I am going to send my mind into your body and sense all the things inside. You may feel some odd sensations.’

With a start, Sam realised that the last sentence had not been heard by his ears. The words had been spoken directly into his head.

He opened his eyes to check that Vallalar was still there. The man sat motionless, his eyes closed.

The voice came again within his head. ‘Please Samuel, close your eyes.’ Vallalar's mouth had not moved.

Sam closed his eyes again and tried not to feel nervous. As he sat as still as he could he began to feel a strange fluttering in his chest and stomach, then a funny pressure behind his eyes. After a few minutes Vallalar spoke, normally this time.

‘Thank you, Samuel. Please be so good as to take off your shoes and lie down.’

Sam did as he was told. Vallalar moved so that he could see the soles of Sam's feet. He picked up the right foot and kneaded it with his soft but firm fingers. After a moment Sam began to feel a warmth running up and down his spine. His back seemed to ripple against the cool stone slabs of the courtyard.

Vallalar stopped. ‘All done, you may sit up, thank you.’

‘Is that it?’ said Sam.

‘Yes, what did you expect?’

‘I don’t know. Something grander, more magical I guess.’

Sam raised himself into a sitting position and the warmth in his spine flowed away. Other than feeling rather relaxed he didn't feel any different. But Vallalar seemed very pleased.

‘Samuel,’ he said happily, ‘It
was
magical. I unlocked your presence. And I think it might be rather strong. Now it is time to begin. You could be an important ally to the rebels. But tell me, have you ever been to a desert?’

There were several lines that existed in and around the tavern. Hadan and Weewalk had shown Sam their locations on the second day. The building was widely believed to be haunted. Indeed, Sam had heard that it was rumoured to be one of the most haunted locations in the country but he knew that the strange sensations and 'ghostly' happenings were caused by the effects of the lines that lay here and there, invisible to those without presence. The feelings that were caused by these lines no longer troubled Sam now that he knew what they were, no more than passing any other closed door would. The Tavern, although odd in places, felt comfortable and familiar.

The particular line that they needed was behind a shed in the garden. Vallalar opened it in a moment and he and Sam stepped through. Vallalar had instructed Sam to wear warm clothing which had confused Sam given that they were, he thought, travelling to a desert. But when he felt the ground form beneath his feet Sam understood why. There was no doubt that this was a desert, and as such suffered extremely high temperatures, but they had arrived at night and the rocky sand was cold under the dark star-studded sky. The wind sighed and moaned across the featureless landscape. A light blue tinged one horizon but Sam could not yet tell whether it was an approaching dawn or the disappearing day. The moon hung above them, out-shining all but the brightest stars.

‘Well, Samuel, here we are.’ said Vallalar. ‘Time for us to move mountains. Have you ever heard the mystery of the rolling rocks of Death Valley?’

Sam nodded his head. By chance he had heard of the mystery. Rocks in a desert had been found to have long tracks in the sand stretching away behind them. The land was flat and the rocks were too heavy to be moved by the wind, or even by a man or animal. Yet apparently the rocks did move across the desert although no-one had ever seen it happen.

Vallalar continued ‘I am confident that you are about to become part of that mystery. This way please.’

They walked up a slight rise until they could see a flat sandy plain below them. Vallalar seated himself at the crest of a dune facing towards the empty space. Tiny streams of sand trickled away at every movement. Looking again Sam could see that the area before them was not empty. In the moonlight he could see a number of boulders of varying sizes. Most were roughly spherical. He sat down next to Vallalar.

Vallalar pointed out a smallish rock, the size of a basketball. ‘Samuel, I want you to move that rock.’

Sam began to stand up and Vallalar gave a laugh. ‘No, Samuel. Like this.’

He took a slow deep breath and Sam saw the rock begin to roll. It was quickly rolling across the plain like a remote-controlled marble, twisting, turning. Sam gaped. The old man moved it with such ease.

Vallalar brought it to rest in front of them and turned to Sam.

‘Now you try. Reach out to it with your mind. Imagine your mind wrapping around it. Once you feel that you are holding it, move it. It is more straightforward than perhaps you are thinking.’

Sam had tried this many times with Weewalk but had not been able even to move a sausage. How would he move something a thousand times heavier? But he did as instructed and imagined he was holding the boulder before him.

‘Raise your hand if you find it easier.’ said Vallalar from one side.

Sam did as he said. He raised his arm and immediately felt a change. He concentrated with all his might and then the warm feeling came to his spine. His arm began to shake. The rock moved an inch. Sam tensed even more, his jaw aching from straining.

‘Aaaaarghhhh.’ a cry escaped his mouth under the strain but then the rock moved properly. As if it had been given a sudden shove by an invisible hand it rolled three feet away from them.

‘Ha!’ shouted Sam joyously. ‘I did it! Wow! I moved it!’

‘Yes Samuel,’ said Vallalar ‘You have a presence.’

Sam and Vallalar spent another few hours in Death Valley. Sam found he was increasingly able to control the movement of the rocks and by the time Vallalar called a halt there were tracks in the sand behind many of the boulders, even some of the larger ones. They eventually had to leave as the sun had come up and began to beat down with an intensity that was completely at odds with the chilly night. Sam arrived back at the Tavern exhausted but happy.

It was evening at the Tavern when they got back. Sam couldn't see Weewalk or Hadan and Vallalar excused himself so Sam ate alone before the giant fireplace. Having finished an excellent chicken pie he sat alone, too tired to go to bed, fingering the puckered scar on his right hand.

What now?
Not long ago he had been an ordinary boy in an ordinary world. When his grandfather died his life had been thrown into chaos. Now he was sitting in a tavern, with a strange power which allowed him to affect the world with his mind. A power that, grown strong enough, might allow him to stop Ferus from hurting anyone else. A scowl crossed Sam's face as he sat there alone. Tired as he was, he sat, working out what to do. Eventually he nodded to himself and left the room.

Back in the bedroom Sam was almost ready to fall asleep when Weewalk came in alone. He was beaming at Sam in the candlelight. Sam slipped from between the sheets and walked over to Weewalk. He dropped to his knees in front of the small figure and gave him an enormous hug. Surprised Weewalk gave a laugh and put his arms behind Sam's back, returning the embrace.

‘Thank you,’ said Sam quietly. ‘For everything. For getting me here. For saving my life. For showing me what you have. I want to help you.’

Weewalk looked at him fondly. ‘Sam, this is just the beginning. Welcome to the resistance.’

Chapter Eleven

Over time Vallalar and Sam worked hard to build the strength and control of Sam's telekinetic powers. After one particularly long day in the kitchen of the Mermaid Sam found he was able to bend a metal spoon in half, and back again, so that there was hardly a ripple or mark on the stem. At one point Jēran came into the room to see a large pile of buckled cutlery on his big oak table. His eyes widened in shock and Sam was suddenly terrified. Then with an enormous beaming smile he clapped Sam on the back so hard that Sam nearly fell over. Jēran had marched from the room still smiling.

Another day saw Vallalar break an egg into a large glass full of water. By the end of the day Sam was able to separate the yolk from the white and even lift the yolk from the glass without breaking it. That night every guest had enormous cheese omelettes to eat, cooked in a massive frying pan by a still smiling Jēran.

After a week or so of moving things, big and small, Vallalar said that he wanted to try a different sort of exercise.

‘Samuel, this is about building a barrier around yourself.’ he said. ‘You have seen Ferus walk through an inferno. He is no more impervious to fire than you or me but he is greatly skilled at control. As you are able to separate yolk from white so he is able to push away flame and heat and hold it millimetres from his body. Were that hold to break the fire would rush into the space and he would be consumed as any other man. It is an enormously difficult thing to hold something as abstract as heat. Have you ever heard of spontaneous human combustion? That's what happens when it goes wrong. Today we will practice.’

Vallalar moved to the giant fireplace. To one side a small fire was burning, the first time that Sam had seen one lit in the massive space. Even with the fire burning steadily at one side there was enough room for a man to ride through on horseback should the line be opened.

Vallalar closed his eyes and stretched out a hand towards the fire. A glowing coal lifted from the centre of the fire, a dull red in the air as it moved towards him. He sat perfectly still as it moved. Then he opened his mouth. The coal floated between his teeth and seemed to come to rest on his tongue. As Vallalar breathed the coal pulsed red, then yellow until it was almost white hot. He opened his eyes and looked at Sam.

It was a bizarre sight to see this man with a white hot fire burning in his mouth. The coal lifted back between his teeth and Vallalar used his presence to toss it casually back into the fire.

‘The trick, Samuel,’ he said, ‘is to create a barrier that you do not allow the heat to penetrate. The difficulty comes in making that barrier as thin as possible. We are, I confess, reaching the limit of my powers. I cannot move the flames with any skill. But you should not assume that you are bound by my own limitations.’

Sam spent the morning trying to manipulate the fire that crackled in the grate. It seemed to be impossible. Every time he tried to focus on a tongue of flame it flickered away and another took its place. The fire was never in one spot. It was immensely frustrating, like trying to pick up a pin wearing boxing gloves. Even where a single flame seemed to persist it twisted and moved so that Sam could not grasp it.

In the afternoon Sam practised holding a glowing coal above a sheet of paper without the paper burning. By the time they stopped the smell of smoke filled the entire tavern and there was a large puddle before them where Jēran had had to rush in with a large bucket of water to douse a fire on one of his tables.

Having had a few days of success Sam felt dejected from the day's failures. That evening he sulked through a meal with Weewalk and Hadan.

Weewalk gave a knowing smile. ‘I've got an important errand to run tomorrow. Would you like to come with me?’

‘Yes.’ said Sam quickly, eager to escape lessons for a time.

‘I thought you'd say that.’ Weewalk's grin broadened.

The next day Sam and Weewalk set off early. The other residents of the Tavern were still asleep. Only Jēran was up, busying himself with pounding some fresh dough with his huge hands. Before Sam had had enough time to properly wake up and ask where they were going Weewalk had led them to a line within a small room on the second floor. He focused his presence on the barrier, tearing it open, his shoulders hunched with the effort.

‘After you.’ he gestured to Sam with a small bow. ‘Keep quiet once you arrive.’

Sam found himself in a bedroom in a typical looking home. The lights in the room were off but a little light filtered through the window. It looked as though the sun had set some time ago and the sky was fading to black. Sam could hear the noise of a television somewhere below.

Weewalk tapped him on the back, making him jump. Sam turned and Weewalk motioned for silence before leading the way to the bedroom door. As they came onto a landing Sam could see that the top floor of the house was in darkness, but lights were on downstairs and the flickering white-blue light of a TV shone in a doorway at the bottom of the stairs.

Together they crept down the stairs towards the front door, checking each step for squeaky floorboards as they moved. As they reached the bottom Weewalk gestured with his hand and the handle turned and the door swung quietly inwards. They hurried the last few feet into the cool evening air and as they moved down a path through a neat suburban garden Sam let out a breath he had been holding. As they neared the garden gate he heard the front door click shut behind him.

Weewalk led them along the street. Lights shone in many windows and the kobold looked around carefully as though he was trying to remember his way.

‘What are we going to do?’ asked Sam. Weewalk had said nothing of what he actually intended.

‘We just need to give a quick bit of help to someone very dear and important to me. Ah, here we are.’ Weewalk came to a house and looked up at the sky. ‘Come on, we don't have much time.’ he said.

This house had no lights on that Sam could see and Weewalk led them around the side where he unlocked a gate and led them into a large garden.

‘Hide yourself in that bush.’ he said pointing at a group of small conifers. ‘Quickly now.’

Sam squeezed himself between two trunks. The smell of pine filled the evening air and he felt sticky sap on his fingertips. He turned and looked out into the garden. Weewalk jogged over to a rotary washing line and after looking into the cloud of clothes above his head he jumped and pulled down some piece of material, leaving two pegs swinging round the line. He tucked it under his arm and scurried back to Sam and squeezed in next to him.

‘Stay out of sight,’ the kobold said. ‘I don't need you to do anything. Just watch.’

As he finished speaking Sam became aware of a noise off to their left, behind the high wooden fence that bordered the garden. The commotion grew louder until there was a loud bang as something hit the fence, making Sam jump. As he looked a familiar bearded face, straining with effort, appeared above the wooden panelling. The figure wrestled an arm over the top and then another before heaving himself up and falling over the fence to land with a thump in the flowerbed below. After a huge sigh the figure forced himself to his feet and began to run across the garden, towards the opposite fence.

Sam stared in amazement. The tired figure running across the lawn was Weewalk, yet Weewalk still crouched next to him, his hand on Sam's arm, holding him back in the shelter of the bushes. The other Weewalk was almost completely naked. He was only wearing a pair of grubby Y-fronts. It was difficult to see in the dark but Sam thought he looked younger, his beard slightly shorter.

Another noise drew Sam's attention back to the fence. As he turned his head he saw a large shape clear the fence in a single bound. Sam recognised it as a garoul, the same kind of beast that had attacked them in the cabin in Dragsholm. In a moment it was at the heels of the naked Weewalk, reaching out with its claws.

Just as it was about to catch the kobold, the Weewalk with whom Sam was hiding, flew out from the bushes shouting. He aimed a powerful blast of presence at the monster, knocking it through the air and into a football goal where it tripped over and tangled itself in the netting. A moment later Weewalk had tossed the spotted dress from the washing line to the naked Weewalk and with another blast of presence pushed the other version of himself up and over the next fence. As the figure flew through the air Sam heard him shout a string of numbers, and his Weewalk shouted another set in response, adding the word 'Mermaid' before darting back into the bushes next to him. The beast was back on its feet now and, unable to see them in the undergrowth, continued the pursuit, leaping the fence. The garden was suddenly quiet. The whole thing had taken seconds.

Chuckling softly Weewalk shook his head. ‘That dress was the most comfortable thing I had ever worn. I'd never had anything fit so well.’ He smoothed his own spotted yellow dress, which was a considerable amount grubbier than the one he had thrown to his younger self.

‘How did you know when and where to be to help him, to help yourself, I mean?’ asked Sam.

‘You heard us call dates and times to each other. And I knew where to hide as I'd seen it happen once before. I should have realised sooner, back when we were escaping from Ferus, that we'd need to come to the Mermaid. I knew I'd need to be here, to go back to help myself out. That, in some ways, had already happened so we probably couldn't have done anything differently. Still, it's hard to keep it all in your head sometimes. Especially when you're on the run! Most of the time it's better not to try to think too hard about these things and just go with the flow. It usually works out in the end.’

Sam had been trying to think hard about it but realising that understanding the finer points of time travel were perhaps beyond him, he resolved to simply accept the order of events henceforth and, as Weewalk had put it, go with the flow. Seeing that he had given up on his internal struggle Weewalk clapped him on the shoulder and, squeezing out of the conifers, they set off in search of the line back to the Tavern.

The next day Vallalar came to Sam and brought with him a man Sam had not met before.

‘Today, Samuel, something different. The time is coming when you will need to use your presence to defend yourself and fight. From now on you will practice how to block and counter-attack. I am not the best person to teach you this. Odhar, here, will be your instructor.’

The other man stepped forward to shake Sam by the hand. He was not much to look at. Muscular but not particularly strong looking, more wiry than anything. He gave Sam a nod and motioned for Sam to follow him as he turned away. And that was where it began. Sam soon realised that he had underestimated the man. Odhar showed Sam new skills and tricks and ways to use his powers that he would never have considered. Sam found that his slight frame made him more agile than he had expected and he was soon confident in throwing himself through the air by pushing off the ground and walls with his mind. He could twist as he flew but Odhar always seemed able to find a way through his defences so that he would end up being knocked to the floor by a blast of energy. After a while Sam was better able to make a defensive barrier, in much the same way as Vallalar had shown Sam how to protect himself from the heat of a fire, and Odhar threw pulses of energy like invisible punches at his defences to test them. After another two weeks Sam felt like he knew how to fight.

People came and went at the Tavern but one day, as he sat down to dinner, Sam realised that there were a few more people than usual staying tonight. Several had arrived separately throughout the day. Sam looked at one of the new arrivals from the corner of his eye.

The newcomer was a girl, with long straight black hair which she kept across her face. Sam hadn't been able to get a good look at her but he had the impression that she was about his age. She was, Sam felt sure, very pretty underneath that mask of hair and he found it hard not to look at her as Weewalk and Hadan chatted about various things. Once or twice Sam thought that she might be looking at him, but he was never sure whether she was looking out from under her hair, or past him, or indeed at Weewalk, who frequently received odd stares. Either way, she left the room before Sam and the others had finished eating and he did not see her again that evening. Sam watched her as she left the room and Weewalk broke off his conversation with Hadan to look at Sam accusingly.

‘What?’ said Sam guiltily through a mouthful of apple crumble.

After another day of training Sam's thoughts returned to the girl he had seen the night before but he had not seen her around the Tavern that day and so he presumed that she had moved on. So, he was surprised when he turned a corner and, exhausted after another long session with Odhar, collided with someone coming the other way. Sam had been so absorbed in thinking about what he and Odhar had been doing that he ran into the other person quite hard, hard enough that the force of it knocked him backwards and he sat down heavily on the floor.

He looked up. It was her, the girl from the night before. He looked into her face as she swept her black hair away from her face obviously completely untroubled for being hit hard enough for Sam to fall back. It was her. Not just the girl from the night before. It was the beautiful girl from the painting at his grandfather's house. The realisation hit Sam like a punch to the stomach and he gasped. How was this possible? He knew her face as well as his own. He had fixed his eyes on that face every time he had felt the prickle of the hairs rising on his neck as he had climbed those haunted stairs. The hairs rose now as he looked up into her face and he realised that this time the feeling was because she had used presence to protect herself as he collided with her. Then as she looked down at him, a slight smile on her lips, her face seemed to change and as sure as he had been a second ago Sam became completely unsure that this was the same girl.