Strange Attractors - Kim Falconer [17]
Curious, that, she thought to herself. While working her way down towards the hole in the ground where her shovel still rested, buried to the hilt in the mud, she considered her options. It was the first time in her life she had thought of a future alone. Xane had always shared their choices, even the small ones like which alley should they sleep in or how much of the mouldy bread could they eat without getting sick. She laughed to herself as she moved from grip to grip. It turned out that they had eaten the whole loaf, green fuzz and all. When it hadn’t hurt them, they made a practice of it. She suspected that was why they were the only ones on the street didn’t get consumption every winter.
‘There’s something in the mould,’ the old witch Rall had said, her lips revealing a toothless grin. ‘You put the right one in the brew and the sickness is banished.’
‘What if you put the wrong one in?’ Shaea had asked.
‘Eat the wrong one?’ She’d laughed. ‘You die.’
Shaea wondered what would have happened if she’d got to Xane in time, if she could have saved him from his wound. She shook her head. There was no blood left in his body when she’d found him. His life had been drained clean out. ‘Demons!’ she screeched.
The footing gave beneath her and she dropped, saved only by her right arm. Her fingers dug into the tiny cracks, a miniature ledge in the rock. It held her weight until she could find purchase again. She thought her shoulder would come straight out of the socket before she finally managed to thrust her toe into another chink. Focus, Shaea! Keeping her mind on the descent, she shimmied her way down the cliff and jumped the last few feet to the causeway below. The mud splashed her legs and sucked at her thin-soled boots. It oozed between the stitching and chilled her bare feet.
She stepped up to the shovel, rubbing her hands together and blowing into them. This was it. It was either figure out the secret to the portal or go back to the streets. She jingled her pockets. She had enough gold to get out of the city now, but she’d never get a coach dressed the way she was. She’d have to clean up. Her brow wrinkled. She wasn’t completely sure how to go about such a task.
She gazed towards the west where the riders had gone. There was no sign of them. The only thing around was the brightly coloured kingfisher perched on a dead branch. ‘What’re you looking at?’ The bird flew off towards the high towers of Corsanon and Shaea returned to her problem. ‘And what’s your secret, little door? I can understand hiding from the warriors but surely you can let me through. I’m just a girl.’
There it was again—a kind of ripple of energy, like someone had thrown a stone into a pond. Only this was no pond and the ripple had a purple hue.
You are not just a girl, and I am no ordinary door.
Shaea jumped, her eyes wide. She looked behind her, searching for the source of the sound. Slowly her head turned back to the mud hole. ‘What did you say?’ she asked the ground, the air barely passing over her lips.
You referred to me earlier as a little door and I found that somewhat condescending. Same goes for you as a ‘girl’. If you want passage into the corridors, you’ll need to reappraise yourself.
‘Demon guts and bile, you can talk?’
That wasn’t the improvement I was anticipating.
‘Huh?’ She scratched her head. ‘I have no idea what you’re on about, but I need help. I’m desperate. Will you let me pass? I bear no harm, nor do I harbour any guile.’
Shaea wasn