The City of Souls

Chapter One: Sand Slavers

Chapter One Sand SlaversThe four children had travelled a long way. The mountain had disappeared behind them and so had the crumbled Castle of Stone. Akra had been attentive throughout the whole journey, listening to Sahib talk about the City of Beams. Behind them Long listened in, but Mai sensed a twinge of jealousy was beginning to twist his thoughts. Sahib and Akra were friends now. Long’s ‘buddy for life’ had been yanked away from him—by a sealer of all things. Mai noticed the frown on Long’s face; he pushed his eyebrows closer together as he watched Sahib and Akra talk. Every so often he stopped to rub his ankles. Mai knew the burns around them would not heal quickly. The wound left from the searing grasp of Amual, which had almost pulled him to his death, would soon blister. What she didn’t know was that two nasty red streaks were beginning to snake their way up Long’s legs, and with them came an unusual meddling in his thoughts.

When it was clear to Mai that they had walked as far as possible for that day, they found a place to rest. Long collected some dead wood, and with Akra’s fireruling skills a crackling fire soon spread its warmth as the darkness of night settled over them. It was a clear night. A starlit blanket twinkled above them. Each of the children, too tired to eat, curled up around the fire and soon they were all asleep. Mai was happy to be back on her journey to the Valley of a Thousand Thoughts. But as she slept, her twitching eyelids told a different story. Her mind replayed memories of the last few days. It was a skill only thoughtbankers possessed: the ability to replay a memory as if it were a dream.

Seemingly untroubled about the events of the last few days, Barka sat on a large log next to the fire as the children slept. The small lizard’s dark, protruding eyes rolled around, searching for another juicy beetle attracted to the firelight. His large sticky tongue lapped around one of the horns on the rear of his head, cleaning away a piece of fly-flax wing. Then his eyes found something juicer than a fly-flax. The long, tube-like body of a wormwod slid across the ground. Barka jumped from the log and scampered after it. The wormwod sensed the danger and quickly slithered away from the light of the fire and into the dark shadows. Barka chased the wormwod until it reached a small hole next to a large blackened tree with enormous branches that stretched out into long twisted shapes. Without a second to spare, the wormwod disappeared down the tiny hole just as Barka’s tongue shot out. The little lizard scratched at the hole but there was little he could do. The wormwod had burrowed in deep.

A rustling sound came from high above in the blackened tree. It wasn’t loud enough to wake the four children sleeping nearby, but it was loud enough for Barka. The lizard stopped still, with one front leg planted on the ground and the other in mid-air. His eyes rolled upwards. A low snort from something hiding in the tree made him scamper back to the fire. He slid quickly into Mai’s pocket and didn’t come out until the pale shine of daylight made the tree visible again. By morning, and after a lizard-type inspection, the tree looked like all the other trees and had nothing particularly large or frightening hiding in its branches.

Mai was the first to wake after Barka. She smoothed away her sleepiness, circling her face with her hands three times. She wished for a handful of water to wash away her tiredness, but once again they had barely enough water to drink. Over the course of the day they would leave the land of Rooruh and journey back into the desert through the thoughtbankers’ land of Sahas to the second token tower. There, they would drink their fill and replenish their water supply. They would rest for the night and then move on to the third tower, before continuing north to the Valley of a Thousand Thoughts.

Mai stood up and stretched, looking over at Long. Her brother was curled up next to a log. The thought of nearly losing him on the mountain had unearthed a heavy responsibility. Even though he was older than her, and acting as her chaperone, she knew this journey would be dangerous for them both. Now she believed nothing would break their kinship—they were thoughtbankers of the desert, and even though Long didn’t care to develop his skill, he was still like her, born of the sands of thought.

She kneeled down and gently pushed his shoulder. He snorted and rolled over. She leant into his ear and whispered. ‘Wake up.’

His body jolted. ‘Get out of my way. I’ll kill it!’ he screamed. His hands thrust upwards as though he was ready to swing a sword.

‘Wake up!’ Mai shook him this time.

Long jerked awake.

‘Dreaming again?’

‘Why do you do that?’ Long snapped. ‘You never let me finish.’

‘The end result would be the same in every dream you have anyway.’

‘That’s not the point,’ he said, stretching. ‘Just once I’d like to see myself killing the siger.’

‘So, it’s a siger you’re about to kill in your dreams this time.’

‘Yes, and it was big.’ He stretched his arms out wide.

‘Have you ever seen one?’ Sahib asked.

Long spun around. ‘Yes, and it was big, with teeth this long.’ He held apart two fingers from either hand, almost the width of his chest to show the size.

‘Long,’ Mai interrupted. ‘They weren’t that big.’

He brought his fingers together a little. She shook her head. He closed the gap a little more. She raised one eyebrow. He rolled his eyes at her, dropping his hands to his sides.

‘They were teeth, sharp and ready to rip anything or anyone to shreds. It doesn’t matter how big they were.’

Akra awoke as Mai started dividing the last of the food into small portions to eat before they journeyed on. She didn’t give them much time for breakfast, encouraging them to eat quickly. They needed to travel over the boundary hill as fast as possible.

When they had finished eating Mai hurried them along, keeping up a good pace. The sun was a quarter high in the sky when they reached the first sand dune. They were weary but there was no time to rest.

By midday the desert baked under the heat, its burning hands reaching out to quietly torture them. Like a sickness it gradually weakened them, and little by little their steps began to slow.

‘I hate the desert,’ Long moaned.

‘It’s not far now,’ Mai said, attempting to console her brother.

‘I don’t know how you can live in a place like this.’ Sahib kicked up the sand as he shuffled along behind them.

Suddenly Mai stopped. ‘Did you hear that?’

Long had apparently not realised Mai was actually talking to Akra. ‘Yeah, we finally have one thing in common,’ he said to his sister. ‘He hates the desert too.’

‘Quiet, Long,’ Mai snapped.

The colour drained from Mai’s face. Her heart leapt. It was too late. They had walked into a trap. Akra reached for his padiqua, but Mai shook her head.

‘There are too many,’ Mai whispered. ‘Everyone stay calm.’

Sahib frowned, searching the dunes. There was nothing to see but sand, haze and heat.

Mai could see the panic on Long’s face. His moaning had been forgotten for now. Mai realised he knew her too well—they were the closest of all their siblings. He would often joke about the strange faces she would make when she was thoughtbanking. Other times he would tell her she looked distracted. Right now it was a little of both.

All at once, several heads wrapped like mummies with slits of shadow for eyes rose out of the sand. Ragged cloaks were draped from their shoulders, and from these hanging shreds the sand rained down, returning to the desert dunes. Under the tattered cloaks were bodies bound in leather, and weapons swung loosely from belts around their middles. Their arms were solid and strong. On the ends of their fingers were claws instead of nails. When the circle of capture was complete, the sand slavers stood still, waiting.

‘We should run,’ Sahib said courageously. ‘Now!’

‘No. They’re not known to you. Slavers are fast. That’s why they are waiting. To see who runs so they can attack.’ Mai calmed her fearful thoughts before she spoke. ‘Just let me do the talking.’

‘Mai.’ Long looked concerned as he stared at his sister. ‘You’re gifted, but not for this.’

A gush of wind swept up one of the sand slavers, and in the next second it reappeared in front of Mai. She had completely missed the movement—slavers were mystical creatures. The elders in Mai’s village had told her the old tale of their birth. A mystical wind conjured by Master Ventus, they’d said, gave the slavers powers, but to balance such force they were sworn into slavery themselves. Only for seven days in each year would they leave the hidden city. This time was called the Reaping, when groups of slavers would leave their secret city in search of anyone who walked the sand. They would capture these poor people and take them to their land where each one would be bound in a mystical bondage and put to work.

The slaver spoke in a language only Mai could understand. Long was multilingual but not in the sand slavers’ ancient language. The elders of their village knew it and taught it, but Mai had studied harder than Long.

In a husky, commanding tone the sand slaver said, ‘You belong to us now. You can try to run, but if you do you will lose your last few days of freedom.’

Mai pushed aside her fear as best she could. ‘I’m on a pilgrimage to the Valley of a Thousand Thoughts. Please allow me to complete my journey.’ She finished with a bow of respect.

The sand slaver laughed, its voice one of thrilling tones and husky violence. Then the slits of shadow bore down upon Mai. ‘You belong to us now. Your journey is over.’

She nodded in submission. It was the only thing she could do to protect them all. She turned to her companions. ‘We must do as they say. We belong to them now.’

‘What?’ Sahib stepped boldly forward. ‘They will never own me!’ But before he could call upon the power of light and dark, two slavers grabbed him. A roar escaped the mouth of one. From the other, the bondage of the sand slavers was locked around Sahib’s neck. The collar of ownership with its mystical powers silenced him immediately. Sahib lost all knowledge of his life, his powers, and his true self. The oracle was now a slave.

‘We must do what they say,’ Mai repeated softly. ‘Do you understand?’ She looked at Akra, who nodded in compliance.

‘Long?’

His face was tight, his skin flushed red.

‘Long, I need you to do this. Please be careful.’

He nodded, and almost instantly Mai relaxed.

Mai sent a thought to Akra. We must do what they want … for now.

Akra remained calm, trusting Mai. He began to search the sand slavers’ minds. Rummaging through their thoughts, he searched for a weakness.

Mai knew he would soon recognise how cruel these creatures could be. He would find nothing but anger and violence in their thoughts. She herself found it difficult to be in their minds and so chose to leave their thoughts to themselves, fearing that their mystical ways might find a way to channel into her mind.

The sand slavers instructed the four pilgrims to walk, and walk they did, but not towards the second token tower. Mai knew they would be taken to the sand slavers’ secret city. It was a city built on ridges of brown stone, they’d said, carved into the mountain with its dwellings protected deep in the earth. But these were just tales. She couldn’t be sure they were true, because no one had ever returned from the secret city of the sand slavers. All she could do was believe they would find a way to escape before they were all bound into slavery forever.