Chapter 25
the world initiates you in its rituals
the short ones; the breath, the sleep
the longer; the death, the birth
‘Be you free men and unnamed?’
She stands tall atop one of the boundary cairns, her chin jutting down the tip of a flat-bladed spear which hovers warningly in front of Quickfish’s widening eyes. Her hair is drawn high on her head, shaved short at the sides. The geometrics on her face mean something – he forgets.
Behind her a few of Thell’s other border guards are equally direct, equally wary.
The spear-point flicks at his face like a snake.
‘Are you slow, pup? Answer the question!’
Quickfish feels Roofkeeper shift beside him, muscles tensing, and the words pour out of him in a hurried mess.
‘Free, yes, and unnamed. I’m Quickfish. This is Roofkeeper.’
Her eyes narrow and her lips twist like wire. The spear doesn’t move.
‘I don’t know you. And I wasn’t expecting you. Where have you stumbled up from?’
The crowd behind her mutters, and a ripple of laughter passes through them.
Quickfish feels their eyes on him, and his cheeks flush hot.
‘What I mean is. I’m Quickfish. Quickfish of Hesper. Of the Grey Towers.’
‘Hesper? They haven’t had the stones to knock on our door for years.’ His interrogator wrinkles her nose warily, ‘Are you Fallon’s kid?’
Quickfish sighs. ‘Among other things.’
Her posture shifts. The spear withdraws and she leans on it quizzically. ‘Fallon’s kid?’ She snorts. ‘You?’ Another ripple of laughter.
Roofkeeper rumbles next to him. ‘I can vouch for him.’
She snorts again, a smile fighting the official frown. ‘Oh. This is too much. You’re adorable. Vouch for him?’
She moves down the hill with sudden speed, heavy solid footfalls that bring her face to a stop an inch from Roofkeeper’s open mouth.
He can smell her breath, sweet and slightly spiced.
‘You know how much we value your words here, pup?’ – a twist of the head, a spit, a two-fingered stab in the chest – ‘This is Thell, you wet-eared nit. We value stone and steel and bone.’
Roofkeeper swallows.
She grins wide as a shark. ‘Cute little pups are always a plus though. Especially if Fallon’s dribbled them out.’
She steps back and bows mockingly, arms stretching to encompass the cairns, the buildings, the mountain fortress which looms at her back.
‘Welcome to Thell, pup of the Grey Towers. I’m Icecaller. And we’re like nothing you’ve ever seen.’