The Singer of All Songs (23 page)

‘There’s no such thing as a windworker,’ muttered Trout from habit, before he remembered what he had seen that night. He shot a quick glance at Darrow, but he wasn’t listening.

‘Tonno, look there, at the bottom of the hill, behind them. Do you see another person?’

Tonno was silent for a moment. ‘Yes – no. I’m not sure.’ He lowered the tube and rubbed his eyes fiercely. ‘This thing’ll send me blind.’

Darrow snatched the tube. ‘It’s the captain,’ he said after a moment. ‘The pirate captain. He’s gaining on them.’

‘We have to warn her,’ said Tonno. ‘Trout, go below again, fetch me a lantern.’

‘But what if she’s looking the other way?’

‘Do as I tell you, for once!’ roaredTonno, and Trout backed away, then turned and fled down into the cabin.
A light’s no good
, he thought stubbornly as he rummaged in the wreckage of the stores and lockers. Calwyn might not see it until it was too late. It would be better to make a noise. But they had nothing to use to make a noise. Tucking the lantern under his arm, he scrambled back up onto the deck.

‘Mica, wait!’ Calwyn grabbed Mica’s jacket.

‘Time enough to catch our breath when we get to that old hut. We got to hurry. I don’t want to get caught in no storm.’

‘I don’t need to rest. Stop a moment. Listen.’

Reluctantly Mica stopped, a little further up the slope. ‘What? I can’t hear nothin.’

‘There’s someone behind us – someone sliding on the rocks. There!You must have heard that!’There was a skittering of pebbles somewhere far behind them.

‘Better hurry then, like I said.’ Mica turned away indifferently.

But the next moment there was no doubt that they were being pursued. Faintly there came the sound of someone yelling, and then the rattle of rocks dislodged by scrambling boots. Mica stiffened, and clutched at Calwyn’s arm. ‘That’s
him
– the captain! Quick, quick!’

Calwyn ran after her, sliding on the loose stones, but her heart was filled with dread. They couldn’t hope to evade the captain now; even if they reached Mica’s hut, they would soon be found.
Fledgewing
was gone; she herself would be sold to Samis. There was no hope. But still she stubbornly struggled up the hill, feet skidding, her heart hammering.

And then, from somewhere ahead and below in the darkness, from far out on the sea, there came a sound unlike any she had ever heard. It was the blaring of a trumpet, and the wild cry of an eagle, and the sweet music of a choir, and the clear chime of a hundred bells pealing out, echoing through the night. For the space of ten heartbeats the sound hung in the air, pure and bright, and there was no other sound, no other movement, nothing in the world but the shining glory of that note. And then slowly, sweetly, it began to fade, dying away into stillness, a silence so deep and calm that Calwyn heard her own blood roar in her ears like a rising storm.

Then it all began.

First there came a fierce grumbling from the depths of the earth beneath them; the loose stones on the hillside began to roll and slither down the slope, and Calwyn heard the voice behind them, the captain’s voice, shout out in fright. The ground shook so violently that she and Mica were almost knocked off their feet. They clung to one another as the ground heaved beneath them. This was no spell of seeming, thought Calwyn; this was a true earthquake. The slope buckled and bent like the ocean in a storm; at any moment it would tear itself into pieces. Mica put her mouth close to Calwyn’s ear. ‘Look, look there!’

As they watched, a banner of flame was flung across the darkness, from horizon to horizon, lighting up the world below, dim and reddish as though fires burned in the clouds themselves. Calwyn could see Mica’s face flushed with the crimson glow, the white stones stained pink and strange at their feet, and the great expanse of the ocean like a sea of dark blood spilled out before them. And far off, across the sea, the shadow of the peak of Doryus was glowing with its own fire, golden bright, a crown of light at the summit of the mountain.

Once again the ground trembled under their feet with the growling roar that was not thunder, the sound rolling around the bowl of the horizon. ‘The mountain – the mountain’s wakin!’ cried Mica, and her voice was filled with awe. They both stared at the great peak of Doryus that loomed over all the islands. A tongue of fire glowed at the summit. As they watched, it spilled over the rim like a boiling stew overflowing a cauldron, and poured, with a dreadful deliberate slowness, down the side of the peak. ‘A fire-flood!’ Mica clutched at her, more excited than afraid. ‘Just like the stories!’

Now the reddish light was fading from the sky. The rising sun glimmered behind a veil of sooty steam, casting an eerie metallic light over the sea, the boats in the harbour, and the cluster of huts. Slava-dazed people began to stagger outside, shaken from their stupor by the tremors, milling about the waterside in confusion. Calwyn could hear their scared cries, borne through the still, hushed air.

Across the water, on Doryus, slowly, stealthily, the tide of fire crept down the side of the mountain, an inexorable river licking its way toward the sea.

‘May the Goddess protect us,’ whispered Calwyn. And she shivered as she placed her fingertips lightly on the marks of the moon that were etched on her arm, for this was stronger magic, more ancient and terrifying, than anything she had ever witnessed.

But Mica was not looking at the fire-mountain now; she was staring back down the slope behind them. The captain was drawing closer, his face clearly visible now in the sickly light. The gold threads woven through his beard glittered, and sweat shone on his brow; he was climbing toward them at a great rate, his face contorted with rage and terror. He was still shouting, and his words carried to them clearly. ‘This is witches’ work! You won’t escape me. When I catch you, I’ll have you tortured till you beg for mercy! When I’m done with you, then you’ll wish you’d perished on Emeran with your witch of a grandmother!’

Calwyn was tugging urgently at her arm. ‘Mica, I can see
Fledgewing
. The others are waiting for us – quickly!’

But Mica stood where she was. She raised her hands, threw back her head and began to sing.

‘Mica, there’s no time!’ Calwyn could see
Fledgewing
clearly now, battered and mastless, but free, and the three figures on board. Someone was standing on the cabin roof, waving his arms to and fro, with a lantern in his hand. She swung around. The captain stumbled up the slope, yelling and cursing and waving his fists. But as she watched, the wind of Mica’s chantment caught him full in the chest. He stopped and doubled over as though he had been punched by an invisible fist. Then a look of horror spread over his face as he found himself lifted off his feet, up and up into the air, higher and higher, far above the slope and the huts by the harbour. The wind carried him, twisting him as lightly as a straw, out over the water where Mica’s arm pointed arrow-straight. She stood tall and scornful, singing out her spell, and then with a sudden gesture she dropped her arm. He was too far away for anyone to see him fall, or to hear any sound as he struck the water.

‘Let him drown!’ cried Mica, wild-eyed, but Calwyn had seized her hand and they were running, running down the hill toward the sea, toward
Fledgewing
, half-falling down the slope that still shuddered under them. Her feet thudded in time with the rapid beating of her heart. They were at the bottom of the hill now, running along a beach of smooth grey pebbles. There was
Fledgewing
, there was Trout, still waving madly, and Tonno.

Calwyn cupped her hands to her mouth. ‘Bring the boat as close as you can! And hold her steady!’

Tonno nodded; then Calwyn caught sight of Darrow, seated beside him in the stern, as upright as ever, but pale and grim-faced. Her heart jumped. The boat drew nearer to the rocky shore. Calwyn sang the words of chantment, and called up the bridge of ice she had intended to make earlier. It was not easy; the little boat bobbed about on the water, and the ground where she stood was not too steady, still trembling as the mountain of Doryus stirred and roared. But she blocked out every distraction, just as the priestesses had taught her, and called up the bridge, weaving it across the gap one handspan at a time, until an arc of ice joined the pebbled beach and the deck of
Fledgewing
.

‘Mica, quickly!’ Calwyn ran across first, not letting herself think how slippery the ice felt beneath her feet. She had tried to make it as rough and safe underfoot as she knew how, but as she held out her hand, she could see how Mica wavered and hesitated, placing one foot gingerly in front of the other. ‘Quick, quick!’ But Mica had never walked across ice. She could not be quick, and even as Calwyn reached for her hand, she almost fell. Calwyn caught her just in time and hauled her bodily down the slope of the bridge to tumble on the deck. Calwyn was on her feet again in a flash, and rapidly singing the words of undoing to melt the ice.

Darrow was beside her. ‘If I lift the new mast, can you fix it fast? We must raise sail.’

Calwyn nodded. ‘Mica is a windworker,’ she said, and that was the only introduction Mica had before she became one of the crew.

They were drifting now toward Doryus, through the scattering of rocks and islands that made up the archipelago. The fire-mountain still belched and roared, and Trout, clutching the tiller, could scarcely tear his eyes from the sight. But everyone else on
Fledgewing
was frantic with activity. Darrow raised up the new mast. Swiftly Calwyn sang a firm foundation to bind it in place, a solid block of ice at its foot to hold it upright. With Darrow’s help, Tonno hauled up the spare sail and held it steady. And Mica raised her hands and her clear young voice, and from the still air drew a wind, gentle at first, but growing slowly stronger, to fill the sails and drive them steadily away from the islands, further out into the open sea, leaving Doryus and the mountain behind them.

In the weird half-light, the peak stood out starkly against the boiling clouds of steam and smoke, its summit outlined in bright red-gold. As they watched, a jet of steam and ash and rock suddenly shot high into the air, and rained down on the island, spattering and hissing into the waves. One fragment hit the deck of
Fledgewing
near Trout; he bent to pick it up, then dropped it hastily, shaking his fingers. ‘It’s hot!’

Calwyn turned to Darrow. ‘Will Doryus Town be destroyed? Is there anything we can do to help the people?’

‘I wouldn’t shed no tears if Doryus Town
was
destroyed, with its slava, and its pirates, and its slave market,’ said Mica with venom, and spat over the side of the boat.

Tonno gave an approving chuckle. ‘Don’t you fret over them, lass. They won’t burn, nor drown. See there, the fire-flood’s moving to the east, it’ll flow into the sea. If they stir themselves, they’ll come to no harm.’

‘Can’t we stay and watch a little longer?’Trout was staring at the peak. ‘I’ve heard tales about the fire-mountain of Doryus. But I never thought to see the river of liquid rock with my own eyes.’

‘
Liquid rock?
’ said Mica with frank derision. ‘How can a rock be liquid, like water? Don’t make no sense.’

‘How can water be solid?’ retorted Trout. ‘But you saw it turned to hard ice just now. It’s the same with rock: if it’s made hot enough, it melts.’

‘But what made it hot?’ Calwyn swung to Darrow. ‘Was it chantment? What was that sound, did you hear it, before the fire began?’

‘Hear it? The whole of the Isles must have heard it,’ said Tonno.

‘That was the Clarion,’ said Darrow quietly. ‘The Clarion called up fire from the earth. It could have been nothing else.’

‘So Samis –’ Calwyn stared at him, wide-eyed.

Darrow turned his head toward the south, where rags of fire still hung across the sky. ‘He is there, somewhere. Testing his strength. Seeing what the Power of Fire can do.’

‘We have to go after him!’ Calwyn’s eyes blazed as she grasped Darrow’s hands, half-beseeching, half-commanding. ‘We can’t just let him go! There are three of us now, three chanters united. We must try! I’ve told Mica everything, and she agrees. Don’t you, Mica?’

Darrow looked from one face to the other: Calwyn’s dark eyes burning; Mica’s sharp, mistrustful but eager little face; Trout, wary, blinking behind his lenses, but holding the tiller firm as he’d been asked to do. At last he turned toTonno. ‘What do you say, old friend?This is your vessel. Where shall we take her?’

There was silence for a breath or two, while the mountain roared and hissed behind them.

‘We need provisions,’Tonno said.

‘There’s the Small Isles, half a day from here,’ said Mica quickly. ‘There’s good folk on Eo, no friend to pirates. They helped me once. Reckon they might help me again.’

Tonno gave the smallest of shrugs. ‘South then. If that’s where he is.’

Darrow found Calwyn’s eyes; her face was lit up with a smile of pure joy. ‘So,’ he said in a low voice. ‘The hunt goes on. Calwyn, I believe you have saved me again.’

‘It’s you who have saved me, this time.’

For a moment they gazed at one another, their hands still clasped together. Then, gently but firmly, Darrow pulled his hands from hers. Swiftly she let them go, suddenly embarrassed.

Darrow looked at Mica. ‘Can you give us a wind to take us south?’ She nodded. ‘Then let us go now. I would like to catch him up. Can you do that?’

‘I can help,’ said Calwyn quickly. ‘Mica’s been teaching me windcraft.’

Darrow raised an eyebrow, but he said nothing. All at once Tonno was the captain in command, bellowing orders. ‘Trout, keep your hands on the tiller and stop your eyes from wandering, or I’ll give you something better than a fire-mountain to look at. Darrow, those cleats look none too firm. Calwyn, your ice is melting in this heat, look to it, if you please. And you, little lass, what did you say your name was? Mica, you say you can summon us a wind, then let’s feel it!’

Soon the boat was leaping across the waves out in the open sea, leaving the Isle of Doryus and its fire-flood to grow smaller behind them.

Presently Calwyn found a moment to stand beside Trout. ‘I expected you to argue about following Samis,’ she said. ‘I thought you’d want to go home.’