The Shadow’s Curse (16 page)

‘Let things change,’ said Wadi. It sprung to her mouth before she could stop it: something she remembered her father once saying to her.

‘I hate that phrase. Yes, things should change. But only if they’re growing, learning, advancing. What’s the point in changing if you’re just going to repeat the same mistakes again somewhere else?’

Wadi did something she did not like to do. She tilted her face upwards and stared at Khareh. She searched his face, the smooth oval of it, searched his dark eyes, the curl of his lip that, at times, could appear the cruellest mouth in the world.

She stayed focused on his eyes. ‘And this is what you see as the problem in Darhan?’

He looked straight back at her. ‘Yes.’

Both their attentions were wrenched away by a commotion across the lake. Dust plumed in the air as two horses came riding out of the monastery. Khareh’s standard was fluttering wildly in the wind behind them. The same wind picked up the stray strands of hair around Wadi’s face. She relished the coolness of it. She had a feeling what was to come would result in a very long night.

Imal and Erdene soon came into view. Altan hurried over as well, a young boy trotting behind him holding the reins to other horses. Imal did not dismount when he reached Khareh and Wadi, but spoke from the back of his mount: ‘The traitor Mermaden is in the monastery. The monks refused him sanctuary. They have been holding him, waiting for you to come, my Khan.’

Khareh’s face lit up. ‘Ah, the monks have been loyal for a change! How nice. Very well.’ He snapped his fingers and the boy jumped forward, tugging one of the horses with him. Khareh quickly mounted. He turned to Altan. ‘I think you will need to find another horse.’

‘But my Khan, there are four horses, and four of us. The savage should stay behind.’

Khareh levelled his gaze. ‘No, there are five of us.’ He clicked his fingers at Wadi. ‘
Savage
,’ he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm – although she knew it wasn’t directed at her; he was mocking Altan. ‘Get on that other horse. Altan, find another mount and come after us.’

Once Wadi had mounted, she scowled at Khareh. ‘Why do you do that? You know you only make him hate me more.’

‘He needs to understand his place. And right now, yours is higher than his, whether he likes that or not.’

That evening, under the cover of darkness, their route was due to take them past the ancient Baril monastery of Pennar. It had been a fraught journey so far, their nerves frayed to breaking as several small groups of Khareh’s army came within inches of finding them. None of them had dared to sleep, especially once Mhara identified the groups as search parties. Raim guessed that news of Vlad’s rescue had finally reached Khareh’s ears.

‘They’re looking for you,’ Mhara said, as the last group moved out of earshot.

Raim shivered. It had been a close call. ‘At least they don’t seem to expect me to be going south.’

As they approached the monastery, Raim pondered the journey he had come on. Pennar had once meant a place of sanctuary, of safety. It was where Khareh had said to meet him so they could solve the mystery of Raim’s scar together.

A meeting that never happened.

Now he would be going to Pennar, but not with Khareh; instead, he was going with Draikh.

‘What are you looking at?’ said Draikh.

I’m worried.

Draikh scratched. ‘I know what you mean. I’m worried too, and Mhara definitely senses something wrong.’

Mhara’s demeanour had changed since leaving Amarapura, a dark glower permanently etched on her face.

The atmosphere felt too charged, like the calm before a storm. They had chosen the route that went past Pennar specifically because they expected it to be calm. The bulk of Khareh’s army had last been spotted far away – in Yelak. It quickly became clear that the army hadn’t stayed there.

It quickly became clear that they hadn’t stayed there. The area around the temple was illuminated by lights from campfires dotting the shore of the lake – enough campfires to indicate an army.

Khareh was at Pennar.

The tension was so thick, Raim could almost eat it.

‘We have to change our route,’ hissed Tarik, as it became increasingly clear that they were heading straight into danger.

‘No,’ said Mhara. There was a dangerous glint to her eye, something more than just the reflection of the campfires. ‘We must keep going. This is the quickest route through to the Temple of Bones. Khareh won’t be expecting us. And the Baril here will shelter us for the night.’

‘It’s too dangerous!’ said Tarik.

If Khareh is here, then maybe Wadi is too. What do you think, Draikh?

‘She could be,’ he replied.

Then we have to find out. If there’s a chance, even a remote one, I have to try.

Mhara turned to Tarik. ‘You’re right; it is too dangerous – for you. Don’t come with us into Pennar. You will head around the perimeter, and you will wait one day and night, then meet us at the fork of the river between Pennar and the Temple of Bones. Have horses and supplies ready for us there. Do you think you can do that?’

Tarik looked ready to protest.

‘I won’t be any more than one night,’ said Raim, jumping on Mhara’s plan. ‘Take Oyu – you know that I would not willingly go anywhere without him. And if you don’t see me after that time . . . go and find Loni and Dharma. They will take care of both of you.’

Tarik hesitated for a second, but then nodded. Raim whistled into the air and Oyu flew down from the sky, landing on his outstretched arm. He slipped the hood over the bird’s eyes, and Oyu calmed immediately. He allowed Raim to shift him onto Tarik’s trembling arm. When Tarik saw that Oyu’s sharp talons weren’t going to rip his arm to shreds, he visibly relaxed. He whispered ‘good luck’ to Raim, then scurried off, making a wide circle around the temple.

In the darkness, Raim noticed a figure moving towards them.

‘He’s Baril,’ said Draikh.

How do you know?

‘The light occasionally shines off his bald head.’

‘Baril?’ said Mhara.

Raim nodded.

‘Good. Let’s find out what’s going on.’

The priest looked as if he was about to retreat, but Mhara drew her Yun sword. ‘Baril man. You know this sword, this means I am Yun, and I can be trusted. I am a friend of the Council. We seek to stay with you for one night – we won’t bother you long.’

The whites of his eyes flickered as he stared at the sword. Finally, he bowed his head and gestured for them to follow. Raim’s mouth was set in a firm line. Most people did not want to argue with a Yun sword. He was glad the Baril weren’t so foolish as to forget that.

The priest led them through a back door of the temple. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Khareh had entered the temple yet – but it was unnerving to know he was only a stone’s throw away. Once they were inside, the Baril lit a large bowl of straw, which reflected light into the room. It was sparsely decorated, with woven straw matting on the floor.

‘Naran take me!’ the Baril said, as their faces came into proper light. ‘You are Mhara-yun.’

Mhara’s hand did not leave the hilt of her sword for an instant. ‘Yes.’

‘But you are dead!’

Mhara’s silence was enough of a reply. The Baril looked over at Raim, but did not recognize him. Only Mhara.

The Baril wrung his hands. ‘Mhara-yun, I’m afraid you have come at a difficult time.’

‘Tell me.’

‘It is Mermaden. He is here, and he is claiming sanctuary.’

‘And you cannot give it to him.’

‘No. Khareh-khan and his entire army are camped outside our doors. They will enter the temple at dawn.’

‘So he hasn’t taken Mermaden yet?’

The priest shook his head, and it was then that Raim noticed the man’s entire body was shaking. He was terrified. He wasn’t surprised – not with Khareh lurking on their doorstep. Or maybe it was from the presence of Draikh. Sometimes Raim forgot the effect the shadow had on people, even though he wasn’t dark and menacing, as ordinary shadows might be.

‘Good, that means there is still time.’

‘I can lead you to a place you can rest – but I’m afraid you won’t have long.’

‘We only need one night,’ she replied.

The priest took them one level below the ground. Raim’s room stunk of damp. There was a tiny window almost at the ceiling that let in the smallest sliver of light and air, and a low wooden cot with blankets. Raim gratefully took the bowl of rice and meat he was offered, then shut the door on the world. Once he had eaten, he crashed down onto the mattress, only carrying one thought in his head as he let sleep take him: tomorrow he would find Wadi.

The Baril waited for Khareh in a long line, one bald, flattened forehead after the other, occasionally broken up by the occasional Baril woman, who all wore their hair cropped short – but not quite shaven. It distinguished them from the ordinary women of the steppes, who kept their hair long. Khareh stayed on his horse as he travelled through them, regarding them all with suspicion and distrust. Wadi was the second-to-last in the convoy, with Erdene manoeuvring herself so that she was behind her. Wadi huffed inwardly at this. As if she was stupid enough to try to escape within sight of Khareh.

Still, the power of the beast she was riding was tempting. She felt the familiar itch in her fingers, the desire to take to the wind while everyone was so distracted.

She quelled that thought. Instead, she concentrated on the faces of the Baril as she rode past them. With the exception of Vlad and Zu, she had never been so close to the legendary monks before. She was curious to know where those two had come from, what kind of society had produced people who were so intelligent, and yet so arrogant.

These Baril seemed to be much more subservient in attitude than Vlad and Zu had ever been – but then again, Vlad and Zu had been oathbreakers. They clearly had a rebellious streak. Here, the Baril monks’ heads were all bowed as Khareh passed, their eyes lowered to the ground. Wadi was about to turn away, when suddenly one of the Baril women raised her eyes to look at her.

Wadi had never seen so much hatred there. It was written all over the woman’s face, in the snarl of her mouth, the flare of her nostrils. Wadi almost pulled up her horse in shock. The mare clearly noticed the sudden tension in Wadi’s body as she began to fret and shudder. Wadi placed her hand on her horse’s neck, calming her, and when she flicked her eyes back to the woman, she was gone. Melted away as if she had never been there. Wadi looked over her shoulder at Erdene, but Erdene’s gaze was on the other side of the line-up. She stretched up in her saddle to try to see over the heads of the Baril, but even though there was nothing but empty space beyond, she couldn’t see where the woman had gone.

Wadi’s stomach churned.

She thought about telling someone. But then whom would she tell? In front of her was Khareh, behind her Erdene – neither would listen to her. Then there was Imal, who thought she was only plotting to escape. She kept her mouth shut, and her eyes focused on the chestnut mane of her horse. Nothing good could come of saying a random Baril priestess had frightened her. Why wouldn’t they hate her? She looked like she belonged to Khareh’s inner circle. If she saw herself, she would probably feel the same surge of hatred. They wouldn’t be able to see from their vantage point that her wrists were still bound together by a length of rope. That she was Khareh’s prisoner, albeit a privileged one.

But there was something about that woman’s gaze that felt like something stronger than hate. It haunted her as they approached the gates of Pennar and entered the magnificent temple.

Wadi was reminded of the temple in Lazar, although everything here was wood rather than stone. Lacquered wooden carvings ran along the top of every doorframe in a web of interconnecting lines. There was a small pool of water in the very centre of the first courtyard, with a wooden island in the middle of that. A miniature tree grew on the island, with branches that spread like the wisps of clouds.

Once Erdene entered the courtyard, two Baril closed the gates behind them, and Khareh dismounted. The others followed suit, although Erdene came over to help Wadi down without breaking her neck. She hated needing anyone’s help, but while her hands was bound, there was no real way for her to do it safely.

‘Khareh-khan, welcome to Pennar. I’m sorry that it has to be under these circumstances—’

Khareh didn’t let the priest finish. ‘Bring me the prisoner.’

‘He’s locked up inside, Your Grace. If you would come in . . .’

‘I have no desire to see inside. Bring him out here.’

‘Do as your khan says!’ said Erdene, who drew her Yun sword. The Baril threw up his hands, clasped them together in front of him, and bowed.

‘Right away.’ He disappeared back into the temple.

‘Erdene?’

‘Yes, my Khan.’

‘Find somewhere in Pennar that will serve as a cell.’

‘For Mermaden?’

Khareh laughed. ‘No, not for Mermaden. Mermaden is going to get a much more public incarceration, back at our camp. No, I mean for Wadi. The events tonight are going to make the camp chaotic and frenzied. I won’t be able to keep as close an eye on her as I would like, and I don’t want that to result in losing my most precious prisoner.’

Wadi wished the ground would open her up and swallow her whole. She had been lulled by Khareh’s attitude – letting her, instead of Altan, ride the horse here, talking to her like she was someone he trusted. Now she was going to be locked away – in a proper cell – for the first time since she had been held captive.

Erdene stepped over and placed her hand firmly on Wadi’s shoulder. She squeezed it in a movement that was meant to be either reassuring or dominant – Wadi wasn’t sure. She was in no position to protest, though. Erdene pushed Wadi, and she stumbled towards the entrance of the main temple building.

‘You brought this on yourself, you know,’ Erdene said, once they were out of earshot of Khareh.

‘I know.’ She gulped. She caught a glimpse of a lavishly decorated room beyond one of the doors, but that’s not where Erdene was directed to take her. Instead, a monk showed them down a flight of stairs leading deep underground, and the smell of damp and rot invaded her nostrils. Khareh had been right – this temple, for all its beauty, had not been well constructed. ‘Do you think he’s going to leave me here?’ she said, panic suddenly welling up in her throat. If Khareh imprisoned her for good, she could do nothing to thwart his plans.