Teren
The following afternoon, Christopher and Anya were in the orchard helping Argus plant an apple tree.
‘I think there’s something wrong with this tree,’ said Anya. It had a twisted grey trunk and the apples were a strange shade of yellow. ‘The apples are so small.’
Jacques flew into the top branches and sniffed. ‘And it stinks of disinfectant.’
‘It’s supposed to – it’s a viburn,’ said Argus. ‘Powerful anti-venom: fabulous for dragon, snake and spider bites. Tastes disgusting though.’
‘Don’t tell Nighthand then,’ said Christopher, ‘or he’ll want to cook with it.’ Argus laughed, and left them to get fertiliser.
‘Did Nighthand tell you his plans for dinner tonight?’ Anya said. ‘He said he wants to see if it’s possible to make toffee from mackerel bones and enough sugar.’
‘I really, really hope it’s not,’ said Christopher.
‘He said he read it in a Berserker cookbook. One of the chapters was called “Entrails: Fried, Steamed and Fricasseed”.’
‘Then we need to steal that book.’ He wiped his hands and looked out past the orchard to the ocean. Then he stared harder. ‘Anya – what’s that, out there?’
Anya’s head went up, and the familiar hyper-alert look came over her face. ‘A boat? Who?’
‘I can’t tell. It’s coming straight for Glimt.’
Christopher scrambled up the orchard wall to see better. ‘White sail. There’s a woman. I can’t see her face.’ Then the sail swept about, revealing more of the deck, and he gasped. ‘There’s a sphinx!’
Anya clambered up alongside him. ‘I see it!’
‘I think it’s Naravirala,’ said Christopher.
‘It’s not!’ said Anya. ‘It’s her son – it’s Belhib!’
The boat approached the dock, the woman with a landing rope in hand. From the depths of the boat came a toddler, leaning to look out at the water.
Christopher gave a cry. ‘It’s Teren!’ The joy of it was of a force to shake his internal organs. The Immortal child had come. He turned to the house to shout. ‘Nighthand, Irian! It’s Teren!’
He dropped down from the wall and tore out of the orchard towards the water to welcome them.
‘Oh! The fendthorn!’ said Anya, scrambling after him.
It was too late. The nose of the boat edged towards the quay, and the sky suddenly erupted in a firework of red and yellow sparks. The air smelt static and sharp. The boat shook in the water, and the woman cried out.
Christopher sprinted to the dock. Nighthand had already barrelled out of the trees and was hauling aside the thorns, and Irian was holding out a hand to help Senan, the Immortal child’s mother, to shore.
Senan held her son tight in her arms, but as Christopher came running down the path Teren struggled to be put down.
He began to run too, his toddler fists pumping stiffly at his sides, his jaw thrust out in concentration as he hurled himself at Christopher.
But he was still unsteady – he tripped over his own foot and would have fallen had Christopher not thrown himself to catch him, both hands between the child and the stony ground.
‘Christopher!’ said Teren, as Christopher swung him into the air. He was surprisingly heavy.
‘Hello, little Immortal. Hello, Teren.’ The strangeness of it had never yet worn thin: here was the wisdom of all ages; here was the reincarnated life of his beloved friend Mal Arvorian; here was a small boy with a pointed chin, four small teeth and a blocked nose that made him huff as he breathed.
Teren threw his head back so that he could see Christopher’s face, and their eyes met. He laughed, and the laugh was full of ecstatic joy – magnificent and entirely new.
Christopher turned back to the dock, where Senan was unloading a case.
‘Senan! This is an honour! You’re most immensely welcome,’ said Nighthand.
Almost nobody – not even Nighthand, a Berserker sworn to serve the Immortal – knew where Teren and Senan had been living. Senan, the Immortal’s mother, had chosen to bring up the Immortal child in secrecy, until he was old enough to understand the full weight of his powers and knowledge.
‘Thank you, Nighthand,’ said Senan, but her face was grave.
The sphinx padded on to the land. All sphinxes are forbidding: Belhib looked, at that moment, actively resentful.
‘You’re welcome too, Belhib,’ said Irian.
‘I have no wish to be. I came only because my mother ordered me to travel here with them. The Immortal and his mother have been living among the clan on the Sphinx Peninsula. Humans, among sphinxes!’
‘Yes,’ said Senan. ‘Naravirala offered us a home. It’s not an easy place to live – but she was generous to offer it, and it seemed to me safest to take it.’
‘But this is where my duty ends,’ said Belhib. ‘I am permitted to return to my people.’
‘Won’t you come first to the garden?’ said Irian. ‘I can get you food and water, before you fly.’
‘Sphinxes should not dine with humans,’ said Belhib. ‘We dine on them. My mother is too much invested in your lives. It is not the ancient way, and it will not be my way when I inherit the clan.’ And without saying goodbye, he took off into the air.
‘I think he still resents that his mother never let him eat me,’ said Christopher.
More figures were arriving, running down the lane towards the dock: Argus, Ratwin, three kankos and the chimaera, who hated to be left out.
‘Where have you come from?’ said Argus.
‘What fetches yous to Glimts?’ said Ratwin.
‘How long can you stay?’ said Nighthand. ‘We’ll serve you a fabulous dinner – ten courses, all of them original recipes.’
‘A fate more terrifying than their journey, I imagine,’ said Irian.
But their celebratory voices faltered in the face of Senan’s silence.
‘I bring bad news,’ she said.
‘Tell us,’ said Irian. ‘We’ll help in any way we can.’
‘You know that my mother and father live with my youngest sister and cousins on the Island of Arvatana?’
Irian nodded. ‘Yes. I remember you said you grew up there.’
‘Their village on the island has been attacked.’
‘Are they hurt?’
Her face was bleak. ‘My father was killed. They say it was a tiger, though I do not know how that is possible.’
Anya and Christopher exchanged glances, but said nothing.
‘My mother was injured in the fires.’ She swallowed.
‘The men called themselves Astorians. They left as fast as they came, like lightning out of a blue sky. My parents knew where I was. My mother sent a message via ratatoska,’ said Senan.
‘She begged me to come. But I can’t take Teren.
It’s not safe. And I thought of you all; I knew he would be safe here, on the refuge of Glimt, with you, Nighthand – a Berserker, sworn to protect him. ’
‘But you will stay, at least for a night?’ said Nighthand. ‘Recover your strength? It must have been a hard voyage, manning that boat alone.’
She looked at him in thanks, but shook her head. ‘I can’t. Every moment counts: my mother could be dying while I stand here. Will you take Teren? Will you promise me he will not leave Glimt? Will you protect him?’
‘Madam, to the death. With all my soul and skill,’ said Nighthand, and he bowed low to the little toddler in Christopher’s arms.
‘The Senate lands in the City of Scholars tomorrow,’ said Irian. ‘I’ll tell the senators what has happened.’
Senan nodded. ‘Yes. Tell them my father’s name: Johan Lyet. Tell them he was a good man.’ She turned back to the boat, pushing her hair from her eyes. She looked exhausted.
‘Really, Senan,’ said Irian. ‘You can’t go alone. Let me come—’
But Argus had already stepped forward. ‘Nighthand and Irian, you must stay with Teren. Senan, will you allow me to come with you? I know a little about medicine and I have plants that will help.’
Senan hesitated. ‘Are you sure? The waters are bad. The bandits—’
‘That’s why you mustn’t go alone. If you can give me ten minutes, I can be ready.’
‘Thank you, Argus. I can’t pretend I wouldn’t be glad of it.’
Anya said nothing, but she looked at her father very hard. It was only a few months ago that Anya had saved his life. She followed him as he ran to pack.
‘Let me come with you,’ said Anya.
In his large bedroom full of plants and seedlings, Argus took his daughter in his arms.
‘My darling girl. I know this is hard. But you’ll be safe – the Hercules thorn will protect you.’
‘The what?’
‘The fendthorn. Officially it’s Spina herculis. You’ve heard of the Twelve Labours of Hercules? The fendthorn was his secret thirteenth labour: to build a barrier that was practically unbreakable. From each of his twelve tasks, he took something to—’
‘You’re changing the subject on purpose! It’s not that I don’t want you to go – I know Senan can’t go alone.’ Her temper was slipping. ‘I want to come with you!’
‘To a burnt-out village where bandits might return any moment? You’re safer here than anywhere in the world.’
‘But you’re not listening! I’m not worried about me, I’m worried about you!’
Her face was like a dart, and he flinched. To Argus, his daughter still seemed very small. He would have been startled to know how much her love for him was like a lion’s. Parents rarely understand how fiercely their children wish to protect them.
‘Give me this as a gift, Anya,’ he said. ‘Come and wave me off.’
In less than an hour, Argus and Senan were gone. Christopher looked out over the water at the departing boat, and then at Teren. He reached down and took Teren’s hand.
‘We’ll keep you safe,’ he said.
A dangerous promise, as he should have known from experience.