Was it possible that all those other markets were but shadows of this one? Here, along this river, lay a market built out of stone, a long avenue fronted on one side by a cunningly paved road and, on the other, by the river. For the river was also a road for those who traveled its ways as easily as a human walked a path.
The skrolin were trading with the merfolk. Could it be that skrolin and merfolk alike lived lives completely oblivious to what took place beyond sea and cave?
What merchandise passed from hand to hand she could not see; the vessel did not slacken its pace except to accommodate the flow of crowds who at intervals crossed the thoroughfare where other vessels such as this one skimmed past. A long wharf, decorated with shells and mosaics on the riverside and soaring into archways and pillars carved like elongated dragons on the land side, marked the border where the two folk came together. In troughs cut into the wharf, merfolk lounged at their ease, eellike hair writhing languidly around their heads. The skrolin, who looked quite dry and encrusted next to the sleek, moist forms of the merfolk, crouched comfortably on their squat legs next to low tables and basins in which, it appeared, merchandise was displayed. The only light illuminating this scene emanated from the stone itself, so diffuse and cool that it felt murky, like looking through water.
In a way, the cloudy light made the vista seem more dream than real, like that city seen beneath the sea, too strange to comprehend.
Adica could not have run the length of the marketplace without becoming winded, but it did come to an end at last. Alain had not uttered one word, only stared, while Laoina muttered imprecations and prayers under her breath. The only noise their skrolin guide made came from the tinkling of the adornments hanging from its body.
At last, they turned away from the river to quieter venues, stopped deep in shadow. Their guide disembarked before a simple stone structure, longer than it was wide. A second skrolin emerged from the building. The two communicated by tapping each other so rapidly that in the dim light Adica could not make out the individual movements of their fingers. Then their guide shooed them out of the vessel, rather like pesky rats being swept out of a clean house, before it climbed back into the shell and vanished into the darkness.
“You are the animals who live in the Blinding.” The skrolin’s voice grated like rocks. Words came awkwardly to it, and although it spoke in the language of Horn’s people, Laoina had a hard time understanding its pronunciation. But no Walking One succeeded without a good ear. Whatever fear and awe Laoina felt, she did what was expected of her.
“We are not animals but human, people like yourself.” Adica displayed the armband before touching the other jewelry she wore to show that her people, too, had the skill of making.
“So is our bargain, that we must help you because of the child who was lost.” With a delicate claw it brushed the armband she wore. “What wish you of us? In haste, we give you what you need so you may leave.”
“Passage to the land of the tribe of Shu-Sha, which borders the lands of the Cursed Ones.”
Without warning, the skrolin turned and shuffled into the stone house. The door shut in Adica’s face as she tried to follow; it bore no latch she could see, nothing to pry open. Smooth as wood, its surface had the grain of rock but she suspected it was neither substance.
“With such allies, surely we could defeat the Cursed Ones,” she said.
“I knew nothing of this,” repeated Laoina, as in a daze. “I thought I knew so much! How powerful their gods must be, to watch over such a place!”
“There is only one God, Female and Male in Unity,” said Alain. “They who created all creatures and all places. Even these.”
Laoina snorted. It was an old argument, one the two had had before. “I have not seen this god. Where do you keep it? In your pocket? Or your sleeve?”
“God are everywhere. As God are part of each one of us and of the world, so we in the world are part of God.”
Before Laoina could reply, the door whisked open and the skrolin beckoned. “Come.”
With its shuffling gait, it led them into the house and down a flight of stairs. It soon became so dark that they had to feel their way along the steps; Alain, helping the dogs, fell behind. The skrolin did not seem inclined to slow its pace to accommodate their clumsiness, but just when Adica could no longer hear its chuffing and wheezing, it halted so they could catch up.
She had lost count of the steps and knew only that her thighs and knees were aching when the stairs bottomed out. They stood in a vast chamber, echoing with loud booms. A hot blast of air struck her in the face. She was completely blind. A clawed hand scraped her arms, then shoved her forward unexpectedly. She collided with a slick wall, banged her knees on a bench, and sat down hard. Laoina crashed into her, swore; then the dogs were barking.
