26: Meeting

She opened her eyes, just a crack. Her head was hurting abominably, and it felt like spiders had been spinning webs in her mouth.

Spiders. Oh, Master.

She sat up and tried to look around, but she very nearly passed out from the pain in her head.

“Woah, woah, not so fast,” said a voice. Startled, she looked around for the source. The light hurt her eyes.

The voice came from a tall man in dark clothes. He gently took her by the shoulders and lay her back down. She couldn’t tell what she way lying on, but she was at about the level of his waist. So, a table or something.

“Who...” she tried to speak, but the word cracked in her mouth.

“My name’s Carton,” he said. “These are my friends Adam and Somon.”

Carton. She remembered that name. Someone in the castle guard. A captain. Her eyes shot open. Yes, it was him.

“And what’s your name?” he asked. He didn’t recognise her! She looked around for the other two people he named as friends. One of them, with a shock of messy red hair, was standing a little behind Carton, looking at her. The other was moving about the room, perhaps hunting for something. There was something about him she didn’t like.

Carton didn’t recognise her. Of course – she must look like a fright, in her torn court gown that by now was barely holding itself together. She drew it closer about her, nervously. Should she tell him who she was? Not yet, she thought. She didn’t like the way that third man looked.

“Pye,” she said. This guard captain wouldn’t recognise that name. He would know her only as Pyrella Mysca Shurelle Wington, or more likely just “The Princess”.

“Pye,” he repeated. “How did you get here?”

Her mouth was starting to clear now, but she was still very thirsty.

“Found this place after… after… “

“After the dragon attack?”

She tried to laugh, but her chest hurt. She sat up carefully, and coughed.

“Is that what it was?” she said, amused.

The look on his face was so serious.

She realised that she’d been forgetting something. “The spider… it…”

“I killed it,” said the third man – the dark-looking one who seemed to have a faint red glow about him. “Looks like you got the other one, though. Good job.”

She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, so she assumed that he was.

“We found you here,” said Carton. “We certainly didn’t expect anyone to actually be down here. Do you know Prid Poren?”

That was an odd question, coming out of nowhere. But she nodded. Prid was an occasional visitor at the castle – a scholar of pre-Cataclysmic times. Her father entertained him and they would talk and drink for hours. He was one of the reasons that she was interested in those times. She clearly recalled many times as a child, listening to the two of them talk.

“Are you a friend of his?” asked Carton.

She wasn’t sure how to answer that. She glanced at Somon, who was now looking at her with a strange look in his eyes. Like a beast that had spotted prey. She pulled her tattered dress closer again. She definitely didn’t want him to know who she was.

The other man – the one with the red hair – just stood there, looking at her. His face was unreadable, though it almost seemed like a green light shone from behind him. Probably just an aftereffect of the spider’s venom.

Startled, she checked her shoulder, where the spider had bitten her. It was sore, certainly. And there were clear marks where its fangs had broken her skin. But it didn’t appear to be serious. A pair of dark marks, and that was all.

“I was bitten,” she said. “How did I...”

The red-haired man, Adam, spoke at last. His voice was soft and soothing.

“We found you unconscious on that bench. It’s some distance from where the dead spider was, so you must have made your own way there after you were bitten.”

“I don’t remember that...” she said.

Adam shrugged. “Either that or there’s someone else down here we haven’t met yet. And if that were the case, why did they not either kill or be killed by the second spider?” He cocked one eyebrow, looking like he’d just scored a point in some verbal game.

“We’re looking for Prid Poren. Do you know where he is?” asked Carton.

She shook her head, which still throbbed, though it was diminishing over time. She was still very thirsty. “I haven’t seen him in months,” she replied.

Carton sighed. “Then I guess we’re back to square one.”

“Why do you need him?” asked Pye. The three men looked at each other, as if unsure how to answer her.

“He’s… uh…” said Carton.

“We’re hoping he can translate something for us,” Adam broke in, holding out a crumpled piece of paper.

“Can I see it?” she asked. Adam handed it over. “Huh. It appears to be written in the Old Tongue. Typical Prid. He takes notes in this ancient language that hardly anyone else can read.”

She saw Somon staring at her again, and realised that the tattered dress had slipped from her shoulder again. Self-consciously she pulled it back up.

“Fortunately for you, Prid is not the only one who still knows this language.”

“You can read it?” asked Adam.

“Some of it, yes. I’ve never been as good or as fluent as Prid. No-one is. But I certainly recognise some of the vocabulary.”

“What does it say?” asked Carton.

She looked it over. The writing was tiny, and a little hard to make out. She ran her fingers through her hair, encountered tangles.

“It seems to be a report of his examination of certain objects, or artifacts. It may be suggesting that they are pre-Cataclysmic.” The paper had her complete attention now.

“There are nine objects,” she continued. “A cup, a… uh… not sure about that one… a metal… tube?” Adam looked surprised at that one, and shot a glance at Carton. “A key, a solid… something… a brooch, a ring, something else I’m not familiar with, and another solid something. The rest seems to consist of descriptions of those nine things. The second paragraph mentions clothing, furniture… oh, and it talks about a vivid shade of red. ‘I do not believe that… skills or capabilities… have survived’… uh, a reasonable translation would be ‘to this day’. It seems that the second object might be some kind of fabric or upholstery.”

“I’m pretty sure we didn’t find anything like that,” said Somon. Pye ignored him.

“Blah, blah, blah,” she said, skimming over parts of the document that didn’t look important. “This is describing the metal objects. Something about the rod, or tube, being the least interesting object in the collection. Um, the cup… something about a pattern… he admits that he is speculating about something. The key… uh, the same as a modern key.” At this point she clutched with her other hand at the pouch still hanging from its thong around her neck.

“Anything else?” asked Carton.

“Ah, here we are,” she said. “The Smelters. That’s where he’s gone.”

“The Smelters? Why would he go there?” asked Adam. “That’s an industrial town.”

“Something about needing to consult with another scholar. And a gift to the King.” She frowned. She recalled Prid presenting her father with a metal rod that he had claimed was pre-Cataclysmic, several months ago. Her father had been quite thrilled at first, but as the rod seemed to have no function, he had re-gifted it to one of his generals as a badge of rank and favour.

“Well, that’s it then. We need to go to the Smelters,” said Adam. Carton didn’t look so sure. Somon was already starting to move away.

“Wait,” Pye called. They stopped and looked at her again. “What happened up there?”

Carton glanced up. “Like I said, a dragon attacked.”

Pye smiled. “No, seriously. I need to know.”

“Seriously. A dragon flew straight out of the stories and laid waste to Bridgeport. It destroyed the castle and burned half the town.”

Pye started to get annoyed, but the look on his face was deadly serious.

“It destroyed the castle?”

“Yes.”

“What about… the king? Is he…?”

“He hasn’t been found yet. Neither has Princess Pyrella. Several of the court are known to have been killed – Golen, Blund – but most are just missing. We presume they are buried under the rubble. But unless we can find the king’s body, we have to assume that he’s still alive somewhere. If not, the kingdom passes to Boter.”

Boter. Her older brother. If her father was… dead… the Boter is king.

“I’m coming with you,” she said.

“What?”

“To the Smelters. I’m coming with you.”

“Now, wait, I…” started Carton.

“Okay,” said Adam.

“What?” asked Carton.

“I’m okay with her coming with us,” replied Adam. Somon stepped up and said “Me too.”

Carton looked at the pair of them – one tall and red-haired and the other stocky and dark. Both had a look on their faces that would brook no disagreement. And both of them could kill him with a thought if they chose. He raised his hands in assent.

“But first,” said Pye, “I need a bath. And a change of clothes.”