The Sleeping Life

Chapter Ten

"It never ceases to amaze me how sitting on your rear all day is so tiring and leaves you feeling so grubby," Lieutenant Meniar said. "Since this Waystation is on Kole’s border, I’m hoping it has Kolan style baths. And that they live up to their reputation."

"What are Kolan baths supposed to be like?" Kendall asked, sliding down the shutter of the coach window despite the damp wind outside.

The twitch at the corner of Lieutenant Meniar’s mouth let Kendall know his answer was going to be entertaining, but not entirely true, so she turned her eyes to grey fields fading to blackness, and only half-listened to talk of naked people sitting around steamy pools together. They were travelling one of the Imperial Ways, so the coach ran smooth and straight, but a broken wheel had delayed the caravan and they weren’t going to reach the next Waystation for at least another hour.

Lieutenant Faral leaned forward and touched her knee. "Faille would know and wake Her Grace if any life-stealers came close."

"I guess." Kendall shrugged, sharper than she’d meant to, but it wasn’t as if she’d said anything about being worried.

"We’re travelling too fast anyway," Lieutenant Meniar added. "Moving slower than walking pace is part of the reason life-stealers prey on the sleeping."

Kendall looked out the window again. She could see a few specks of light in the far distance, and supposed there was a farmhouse there. A few months ago, she’d never gone further than the nearest village, let alone swanned about in fancy carriages, and she’d always watched with envy as the mail coach passed. The Kolan Wayporters travelled in groups for safety, and sped at great speed along the roads they kept boasting about, and Kendall couldn’t help but be pleased to have come along, despite certain unshiftable annoyances.

Wondering how much of the gab about the baths was true, she pulled the window shutter closed as the endless rain picked up again. At least there were plenty of light and heatstones to make wet autumn days bearable.

"Why don’t life-stealers, or any of the Night Roamers, just hunt animals instead of people?" she asked. "No-one’s ever been able to explain that to me."

"Possibly because no-one’s ever been able to do more than guess," Lieutenant Meniar said. "Though I must remember to ask the Duchess what the Surclere view is."

"The most common theory ties to the popular idea for the origin of the Eferum-Get," the pest said, because the gods forbid a day went by when Fallon DeVries couldn’t show off. "If Eferum-Get are created by our nightmares, then reciprocally we are what they need to feed upon."

"In parts of the west you will see depredation on animals," Lieutenant Meniar added. "The Empire doesn’t manage Eferum-Get as efficiently as Tyrland. They rely on strong circles, often bolstered by walls, and periodically sweep regions. Eferum-Get who can’t prey on humans usually die after a time, but some adapt. Their magical aspects fade, and so does their dependence on humans."

Kendall was willing to bet they wouldn’t pass up anyone they could get their claws on, but settled back to deciding whether she was going to give Rennyn her attempt at the Sigillic divination or pretend she hadn’t even tried. It wasn’t that she had any trouble looking up words in the Sigillic dictionary, but writing precisely what you wanted to happen in sigils was harder than it sounded. There seemed to be a thin line between getting it just so, and having your head explode. And Rennyn wouldn’t give her a form book full of Sigillics that other people had already worked out, so Kendall could check how close she was to right.

She’d just about decided that it wasn’t worth giving the Pest another chance to tell her how to do it right when Lieutenant Faral opened the door and climbed onto the roof. She moved with the total ease only a Kellian could manage, disappearing into the rain without even a pause. As the coach driver let out a startled oath, Sukata pulled the door shut, then slid down the shutter. Lieutenant Meniar tugged his slate book from the enormous inner pocket of his coat and flipped it open.

"You do numbers, Sukata. I’ll do type."

Kendall reminded herself that Kellian instinct was all about approaching danger and that the Sentene used a lot of hand signals. At least the Pest looked just as astonished.

"We’re very close to the Waystation," said Lieutenant Faral, her voice sounding spookily from the window just before the driver began clanging his warning bell to alert the rest of the caravan to danger. Kendall couldn’t work out what else she said but by now Sukata had got through her casting, and the way her head moved back warned that it was bad.

"Dozens," Sukata said, with proper Sentene to-the-pointness. "Spread out ahead around a central cluster."

Lieutenant Meniar’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t falter in casting the second, more complex divination, despite the increasing jolting of the coach. The driver had whipped the horses to a mad dash, and even on an Imperial Way the coach bounced like a skipping stone. Kendall had a brief vision of the lead coach overturning and the rest of the caravan ploughing into it. They would be all tumbled and smashed and whatever was out there would have easy pickings.

"At this speed we should be able to break through," the Pest said, not sounding like he believed himself. "We only need to make the circle. If it’s walled, the Waystation guards will get ready to open the gate when they hear the bell."

Not bothering to respond, Sukata slid Lieutenant Faral’s sword out from under the seat and held it up out the window, then produced the long knife she kept strapped uncomfortably to one thigh.

"If we are stopped outside the circle, we must go directly to Her Grace," she said. "Stay close, on my left side."

That shouldn’t be too far. Of the six coaches in the caravan, Rennyn had hired two. It gave them seats spare so Kendall, Sukata and the Pest could ride with Rennyn and Captain Faille in the mornings and the Lieutenants in the afternoons. Rennyn’s coach was the next one up, third in line.

"Hells!" Lieutenant Meniar started out of his seat and stuck his head out the window. "Keste—it’s a Kentatsuki in swarm. Can you see the Waystation?"

"Too close," Lieutenant Faral said as the coach lurched, slowing, and the driver stopped sounding his alarm. "Brace yourselves."

Lieutenant Meniar barely had time to throw himself back onto the seat before the coach lurched wildly, veering to the left. Sukata gripped Kendall’s shoulder with her free hand, and the Pest managed to snatch at a strap as everything loose tumbled to one side. As the faint tingle of a circle’s border made Kendall shiver she heard a huge bang outside. Wood groaned, then the coach thudded into a smoother course, lurched again, and stopped with an almighty judder and much clashing of hooves.

"Follow me. Now." Sukata had gone very commanding and in charge. She thrust open the coach’s right door and hopped out into the rain. Kendall was slow to move, frozen by the noise: people shouting, pistols going off. Just ahead was a sound barely recognisable as a horse.

When Lieutenant Meniar slid out past her, Kendall managed to shift herself and follow, so busy trying to look in every direction at once she dropped straight into a puddle, drenching herself to the knees. There was a little light, and she could see that this Waystation was much the same as the one they’d stayed at yesterday. A vast wooden wall circled it all, with a big building to one side, four floors high, and a mash of stables and sheds around it. A third of the circle was left for a through-road and a place to unload coaches before they were drawn outside for the night.

The lead coach had clipped a wagon and overturned, the horses broken free except one lying tangled in the traces. There were horses everywhere, panicked and trampling. Kendall’s coach had veered toward the main building and almost through the wide-open door, and there was a coach right behind them, the horses blocking the way to Rennyn’s. The last two coaches had managed to pull up just outside the circle, and passengers were crowding out only to stop and fall over each other as they saw the same things Kendall didn’t want to, scrabbling up on the first coach.

Bugs. About a third the size of a man, purple-pink and…fleshy. They had long wings, and legs that flexed and gripped like spiky arms. The heads…she struggled to think what they reminded her of. Dogs? And they were making a noise, a rasping scrape that bored into Kendall’s skull.

There were more than the four trying to pull off the door of the fallen coach. There were flickers of movement everywhere, things darting forward, not bothered by the soft light of the Waystation’s mageglows. They hopped more than flew, but they were quick, and the caravaneers trying to shoot them were far too spooked and clumsy, even without the rain dampening their powder. The lead coach had had an expensive rifle that used magic to spit its shot, but that must be lost under the tangle of spilled luggage.

Kendall’s coach jerked as the driver struggled to control horses trying to back, and Lieutenant Faral jumped down from the roof as the Pest stumbled into Kendall. Sukata caught her elbow, and they all moved in a rush to find Captain Faille guarding the open door of Rennyn’s coach.

He was holding the longest of his swords, the one nearly as tall as he was, and gave Sukata a smaller one as she arrived. Adding only a Sentene hand signal, he and Lieutenant Faral turned and were gone, blurring in two separate directions.

"Into the coach," Sukata ordered, and hustled Kendall and the Pest in before they could move on their own. Rennyn was sitting just inside the door, her face set. Lieutenant Meniar began casting something: a spell inscribed on a metal plate strapped to his wrist. He didn’t even look up as Sukata, sword a blur, sent one of the bugs tumbling in pieces back the way it had come. Dozens, Sukata had said. Dozens.

"How did they get inside the circle?" the Pest asked, then started as something landed on the roof. As Sukata turned, a man dashed past her, two more bugs in close pursuit. The people crowded at the circle’s entrance had started running in all directions, even out away from the Waystation.

It was too much for Rennyn. "Kendall, tell them to shield their eyes," she said, leaning forward.

For a second Kendall tried to snatch her back to safety, but then her brain woke up and she yelled with all her might: "Shield your eyes!" before half-covering her own. Through parted fingers she saw Rennyn glance up, which was the only warning before the sun came out.

No, brighter. Hot, white, piercing light, stabbing through Kendall’s fingers. The thing on the roof made a noise like a clockwork cat being boiled: a shrieking, clattering hiss followed by a thump as it fell to the ground. Eyes slitted, Kendall felt rather than saw Rennyn start to tip forward, and grabbed at the back of her coat. Managing to catch hold before her teacher was more than halfway out, Kendall pulled back and ended with a damp armful already colder than she should be. Kendall hadn’t figured out more than that before the glare through the coach door changed.

Light did weird things to Kellian. Sunlight turned them golden, their eyes yellow discs, their hair and nails pale flames. At full moon they were silver, and they even went a kind of rose during a painted dawn. Kendall had never seen one in light as strong as this, and for a moment couldn’t even tell who it was, saw only a vaguely human shape of burning blue-white. Even the clothing was lit or lost in the glare.

But of course it was Captain Faille. One lightning-tipped hand found Rennyn’s throat, touched her cheek, then he picked up a cloak from the seat opposite and laid it over them.

"Keep her warm. DeVries, assist Meniar."

Gone again. Kendall squinted into the glare, then tightened her grip on Rennyn.

"Is she—?" The Pest stopped trying to squeeze himself into the far corner of the coach and moved forward. "I suppose she must be. Fel, she can cast like that without a focus." He shook his head, grimaced, and then slid out into the blaze.

Frowning, Kendall slipped an arm under Rennyn’s legs and struggled to move her limp figure away from the door. Stupidly tall woman. That she didn’t stir at all during the heaving wasn’t a good sign. Sliding into the gap by the door, Kendall tucked the cloak properly around her charge, then pulled one of the warm glowstones to her and set it in Rennyn’s lap. She might still be breathing, but Kendall hadn’t seen Rennyn so deeply unconscious since that first week after she nearly died.

But it was being wet that was the problem, and Kendall, still dripping herself, scuffled about trying to dry hair and skin and finding another of the glowstones. The demon prince’s miscasting had stolen Rennyn’s physical strength, so not only was she liable to catch colds, but Lieutenant Meniar had explained that even a minor sniffle could weaken Rennyn enough to make her more likely to catch another. And that would tire her more, so that she’d have a harder time fighting off the next. Even relatively little problems could lead to a deadly downward spiral.

With an arm around Rennyn’s waist to make sure she stayed upright, Kendall squinted into the glare, trying to work out what was happening through the haze of rain and light. Less screaming now, more shouted questions but, since everyone except Kendall spoke Kolan or Verisian, this didn’t tell her much. Over near the lead coach she could make out Lieutenant Meniar talking rapidly to the man who had run past, who was clutching his shoulder. Lieutenant Faral was a streak of lightning on top of the tumbled coach, helping someone climb out. The only caravaneers Kendall could see were trying to calm the horses of the next coach over. The Vanmaster, a grizzled and impatient type, came staggering up to Lieutenant Meniar, herded by Captain Faille. Collecting the injured, Kendall guessed.

Sukata and the Pest weren’t anywhere Kendall could see. Even without the glare the coaches blocked at least half of what was going on. Two men came to help Lieutenant Faral lift injured people out of the fallen coach. Captain Faille carried another person up to Lieutenant Meniar, a woman with a stain down her stomach and skirt, who clung to him when he tried to put her down. The light made the colour all wrong, but Kendall knew the stain was blood.

Sukata ran up then and handed Lieutenant Meniar a slate, but raced straight away again, burning white. She and the pest must be in the other coach writing up Sigillics for him, in oil pastel to withstand the rain. Captain Faille went to one knee, talking to Meniar as he detached the woman’s arm from around his neck. But he stayed holding her as Meniar began to cast.

Kendall was abruptly glad she wasn’t any closer. Turning, she fussed with Rennyn’s blankets, and wrapped her charge’s icy hands around the glowstone, holding them in place. Out in the rain the woman had arched backward on Captain Faille’s lap, and something had come out of her stomach. A little bug, hand-sized, shaking out its wings like a butterfly from a chrysalis in the few moments before the light made it sizzle and burn.

The woman was screaming. Screaming and screaming, and Kendall would probably do the same if a bug had come out of her stomach. The things had been stinging the people they were chasing, laying eggs in them. They’d grown so big, so quickly. Fel, it was no wonder Rennyn had cast, even knowing what it would do to her. It explained why Lieutenant Meniar was doing his healing out in the pouring rain, too. In the light.

Every time she glanced out, Captain Faille and Lieutenant Faral were in a different place. Collecting injured people, herding those who had run outward back into the Waystation’s circle, organising for the wreckage to be moved, getting the final two coaches into the safety of the glare. Babysitting was the easiest job going. Not that Kendall was really doing more than stopping Rennyn from falling off the seat as the driver continued to struggle with the horses. But she’d been around the Kellian enough by now to know that having someone to sit with Rennyn made all the difference when they couldn’t be with her themselves.

Even Lieutenant Meniar, who had more to do than any person could manage, came straight to check on Rennyn once he’d dealt with the people who’d been stung. Dripping all over Kendall, he didn’t do much more than see how Rennyn was breathing, but he frowned all the time.

"It’s not so much what she’s done to herself by casting with all her strength, it’s that when her system’s shocked like this she’s ridiculously vulnerable. If she grows at all responsive, try and give her a little honey and water. I’ll send Sukata with a fortifier."

Rubbing a hand over his face, he hurried away, leaving Kendall to go through Rennyn and Captain Faille’s belongings in the hopes of finding honey and water, or anything more useful than the squashed packet of honey cakes she discovered where she’d been sitting. She’d given up and was wetting Rennyn’s lips with drops of rainwater when a blazing blue-white girl arrived, herding a crowd into the coach with a few words of Kolan.

Kendall needed a moment to recognise them as the people from the first coach, a family of Kolans who had ponced about in masks to show they were noble, and had both a maid and a manservant to send to tell people what to do. Only one of them, the extra-snotty oldest daughter, was still wearing a mask, and they all looked shaken and battered. They squeezed four across on the seat opposite Rennyn and Kendall’s, both the father and the manservant missing.

"Move her a little closer," Sukata said, pulling out her slate. It helped when she spoke, because she looked like nothing in the world.

"Thought you didn’t feel ready to try any healing magic," Kendall said, swapping sides with Rennyn again.

"A fortifier is straightforward. And one of the reasons we’ve been getting so many lectures on healing magic is so we can help in emergencies."

Those who were allowed to cast Sigillic Magic. Not that Kendall would want to try and mess with healing, but it was constantly annoying that Rennyn wouldn’t even let her start with something simple. Sukata was a good caster though, and she didn’t have any trouble with the spell, which would make it a little less likely Rennyn would get sick.

"We’ll be heading out very soon," Sukata said, folding her slate. "You’ll need to sit between Her Grace and I."

For a moment Kendall couldn’t think why, but of course Sukata was completely soaked. "We’re not going to stay here?"

"There’s no way of knowing how long this light will last," Sukata explained. "Even if it burned long enough for us to fully clear the buildings, there are more outside the circle. We need to give warning, or this will be a plague across the region. There is a town an hour along the road, and if they reach there…."

"How did they cross the circle in the first place?"

One of the Kolans said something and Sukata paused, then replied in the careful Kolan she’d learned at the Arkathan.

"Kentatsuki are one of the most dangerous of the Eferum-Get," she went on in Tyrian. "Relatively easy to kill individually, but they can tolerate dull light, so roam on overcast days, or during dusk. And they implant their young in those they attack, without immediately killing them. The injured run for safety, and their bodies shield the Kentatsuki young when they cross the circle. Those who have been attacked rarely survive more than ten or twenty minutes, and the new Kentatsuki reaches full size within an hour."

"And when it starts stinging people inside the circle, some run outside," Kendall finished, shaking her head at the implications. "And you said there were dozens…"

But Sukata had turned away, looking back at the big main building. Without a word she walked off, catching Captain Faille as he strode past. Kendall watched them blankly, not used to Sukata being in any way impolite. Lieutenant Faral joined them, and the three Kellian stood studying the main building’s entrance and ground floor windows.

One of the Kolans said something, a question, but Kendall could only shrug. The Kellian were obviously talking about going inside, but why they would suddenly want to do that was anyone’s guess.

As usual, they didn’t waste any time about it. Captain Faille took his shorter sword from Sukata and tucked the really long one on the roof of the nearest coach. He and Lieutenant Faral went through the open front door of the inn in one rush, and Sukata was a blur in their wake.

The Kolans broke into a spate of gabble, and the people the Kellian had been ordering about gathered in a confused clutch. Kendall strained to listen over the rain and chatter, and thought she heard something smashing. She didn’t know whether to be worried or not: the Kellian moved faster than almost anything, but it had seemed like there were a lot of the bugs inside. Kendall had watched Sukata practice with Captain Faille, and knew she could easily kill almost anyone who attacked her. Still…

Rather than think about it, Kendall began inching Rennyn across to the far corner of the coach, since by now the inside of the open door was soaked. There still wasn’t a speck of response from Rennyn, even with someone pulling and trying to lift her. Kendall propped her in the corner, tucking a small cushion behind her head and making sure she was as warmly wrapped as possible.

The Kolans had crowded around the open door and, when they gasped and began to point, Kendall let herself look and saw a lightning girl climbing out a window on the middle floor of the building. There was a shadow at her side, lost in her glare, and it was only when a second figure emerged with someone over their shoulder that Kendall realised that they were both carrying people.

The third lightning figure waited inside the building until the first two had reached the ground, then leapt down. Kendall knew this one was Captain Faille because he was taller, and stopped to collect his sword. The Kolans broke out in excited murmurs, then went mouse-quiet as the three headed straight for their coach. Sukata was first, and climbed inside to become herself again, except with a pearly radiance from the light streaming through the door. A little girl, four or five years old, clung to her side so tight Kendall couldn’t see any of her face.

Lieutenant Faral handed another girl in: this one twelve or thirteen, eyes red from crying. She latched on to Sukata as well, while Lieutenant Faral turned away to say something to Captain Faille, and then start shooing people back to their coaches. Captain Faille gazed in at them—checking how Rennyn looked—then closed the door.

"How did you know they were in there?" Kendall asked, looking for anything she could give Sukata to dry herself on, since her friend was absolutely sopping.

"This one began crying," Sukata said, glancing to her left, then reaching to slide open the window. "They had locked themselves in a closet, but the door was weakening."

Captain Faille was standing in between the two rows of coaches. He signalled, and the driver of the coach ahead whipped up his horses. Kendall had only enough warning to put a restraining arm across Rennyn before their own coach jerked and moved forward. She stared back out the window, but couldn’t see Captain Faille any more.

"Is he—?"

"Part of the swarm is outside the circle," Sukata said. "Once we are gone, they will disperse, searching for other hosts. Faille will remain, and attempt to hunt them."

Alone in the dark. Captain Faille might be the most dangerous non-mage around, but if he got stung, what could he do? Kendall glanced at Rennyn, slumped beside her, and pulled a face. What Rennyn would do didn’t bear thinking about.