From the ground, the Etilay houses looked like half-deflated leather balls. Their walls were a skin made of some kind of flexible, fibrous material. Inside, however, was an intricate lattice of strong dried reeds that could be expanded or collapsed as needed. The core of the building, the hearth, sat on a solid base, and this lay on a raft shaped to fit snugly around a lizard’s back.
Following Ahlen, Tyen saw that one had been collapsed, and a lizard was being led under it. The creature settled into the harness without objection, and as soon as the straps were tightened children rushed forward and climbed up onto the beast’s stout shoulders, using the soft bristles sprouting from the segmented neck as handholds. The man holding the lizard’s lead scratched it under the chin, and a deep rumble vibrated the ground beneath Tyen’s feet.
“Have you heard the news, Ahlen?” Tyen asked.
“News?” the young man replied. Tyen turned to look at his former classmate. Ahlen’s pale eyes stared back at him, then his brow furrowed. “Bad news, I see.”
Tyen nodded. “Liftre has been forced to close.”
Ahlen’s mouth opened in shock. “When?”
“Last night.”
“How? Why?”
“The Raen has returned.”
Ahlen’s eyes closed and his shoulders dropped. “Of course. I should have guessed. Only that would do it.”
Tyen sighed. “Does everybody know about this man already but me?”
Ahlen managed a smile. “Probably, though I would have thought you’d have heard some stories.”
“I must have, but when there are countless stories from countless worlds I guess it’s harder to remember the names of the people in them–especially when they’re supposed to be dead.”
Ahlen’s expression shifted to worry again. “I fear what this means for us. The soil here is so salty and wet, crops don’t grow and domestic animals do not thrive. We have been trading salt with the three worlds that abut this one for over ten cycles now, as was done long, long ago before the Raen imposed his laws. Now that we can take the salt to them we can bargain for a better price. That is why I was sent to Liftre: we had lost the knowledge of world travelling.”
“What will your people do now?”
Ahlen sighed. “Some will want to stop trading, others to keep going until we’re ordered to stop.” He shook his head. “But what will you do? You can’t return to your world. Where will you go?”
“For now I’m spreading the news.”
Ahlen nodded. “Thank you. We have more time to prepare now. You should go, and quickly, to warn the others. ‘News and the Raen travel fast’, as they say.”
“Do they? I’ve not heard that quote before.”
“No, it fell out of favour.” The young sorcerer smiled. He slapped Tyen’s arm. “Best of luck, Tyen Ironsmelter. And beware of shadows in the place between.”
The parting warning from his friend hovered in Tyen’s mind as he made his way to his next destination. He found himself peering into whiteness, looking for movement, or human shapes more distinct than those of the world he was leaving or approaching. He was relieved when he finally reached his destination.
The arrival place was a circular pit carved out of solid black rock. Around the rim stood four guards. Hekkirg had told Tyen not to bother with the usual formalities when he visited. As she had instructed, he skimmed across the world to the humble collection of buildings that she and her husband occupied. Several additions had been made, he noted, including a large new wing from which smoke was belching from large chimneys.
Many more servants were about than he remembered, but when he emerged in the small entry hall at the front of the main house he found it empty. He was about to call out when a scuttling noise reached him. It came from alcoves carved near the base of the walls. The sound was familiar, but he was not sure why.
Then the hall filled with a deafening buzzing and clicking as streams of metallic bodies flooded into the room.
Insectoids! Spindly machines with clawed and dagger-like limbs rushed towards him. He instinctively stilled the air around him, forming an invisible shield that they clattered up against, attacking the resistance with stabs and slashes. Though in no danger, he stared at them in horror.
A whistle pierced the clatter. At once the attack ceased. Another piercing noise sent them scurrying back into the alcoves. Tyen realised the door to the next room had opened and a stocky woman stood in the opening, staring at him.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“Tyen Ironsmelter,” he replied. “To see Hekkirg.”
“Wer!” the woman exclaimed, her whole body expressing relief. She beckoned.
As she led him into a large room with an enormous fireplace he sought information in her thoughts, reasoning that learning who had misused the knowledge he’d taught at Liftre justified the bad manners of mind reading without permission. He saw that Hekkirg herself had designed them, to guard against invaders from the kingdom across the strait. Their old enemy had resumed raiding their shores in recent cycles. Visiting sorcerers were now supposed to wait to be invited to the house, so the insectoids could be instructed not to attack.