Chapter IV

Silk drifted in and out of sleep until the sky had transitioned from black to blue. The conversation from the previous night had given him some information about the island but it wasn’t enough for Silk to make sense of it. His arm was numb as he willed himself to get up and peer out of the window. The waves rose and fell in a gentle rhythm that eased his nerves. No one had explicitly stated when the curfew came to an end. He didn’t want to intentionally break the rules or risk coming into contact with one of the beasts but he also didn’t want to be asked questions that he was reluctant to answer. The Chieftain had been nice enough to give them separate huts to sleep in. Silk would be a fool not to take advantage of that. Silk paced the tiny hut, counting to one hundred for no reason in particular. He grabbed his clothes and listened carefully for any signs of movement outside. Even the birds weren’t up yet. Silk winced reflexively as he opened the door but this wasn’t the mainland where there were metal hinges that would give him away. He creeped down to the beach, placed his clothes on the dry sand and bathed. He’d saved some of the herbs from the poultice to cleanse the days’ worth of stench from his body. His feet stung less. In fact, when he studied them in the dim light he realised they were almost healed. The blisters were gone and new skin was beginning to form in places creating a patchy look. He could spare another gold coin to get a new poultice from Reya. As no one had apprehended him thus far, he assumed the curfew was over. Or they were watching to see what his next move would be.

Silk picked his way carefully around the edge of the settlement. His hut was the last one on the row meaning he’s only be overly visible as he walked across the square. Silk traversed the square carrying the sandals in his hand to prevent them from smacking against the cobblestone. He kept listening out expecting someone to intercept him but no one was around.

Once he hit the edge of the sand dunes, he stared down at the ground looking for tracks as Blunt had done at Galbo’s settlement. The sand shifted slightly in the early morning air but it wasn’t enough to cover the tracks. The beasts had been roaming around recently. Silk stretched out his back, searching for the sun which still wasn’t ready to rise for a little while yet. He had two options. North through the sands to investigate the shout he’d heard or east to the forest where the tracks seemed to lead. He was here for the plant. It was his sole objective but the tracks were almost double the size of his own foot and he was a curious man who sought to understand the things around him. He could always cut through the northern part of the forest if he found nothing of interest over the sands.

The further north he went, the more the weather began to change. The sun rose as usual but mist swam out across the dunes. A permanent mist that only seemed to plague the northern segment of the island. Silk’s body protested. He had done more walking in the past few days since leaving home than he had in years. A strange building appeared in the middle of the sands. Three walls, no roof and a massive table laid out in the middle that was lightly stained red. Spread out on the table were a small wooden knife and a pestle. Silk absently ran his index finger over the stain to see if he could remove it but it had permeated the wood. Silk’s eye began to twitch. The stain didn’t seem to be blood and there was no odour but that was a small consolation. It was difficult to make out in the mist but there were human footprints around the table. Male, judging by the very large size. As everyone in the settlement wore the same sandals, he couldn’t discern who they belonged to. He’d done enough investigating for one day. He didn’t need to get involved in whatever they had going on here. Desert tables and shouts in the night. He just needed to get his plant and leave the island. Blunt would be eager to leave with him.

Silk squinted in the mist, walking diagonally in the direction that he thought the forest was. He felt for one of his instruments to give him comfort against a potential beast but he’d left them in his other trousers. Sand gave way to a smooth stone that his sandals slipped over repeatedly, ready to drag him crashing down. The scent of seawater was strong. Waves seemed to crash in front of him. The largest stone artifact, looming in the dawn, had an incredibly smooth surface. It glistened. With curiosity getting the better of him, Silk examined it from all sides. There were other stones clustered around like nature’s titans. This was an edge of the island but whether it was the eastern side north of the forest, or whether he’d managed to hit the island’s northern peak which seemed unlikely in such a short space of time, he couldn’t tell.

It did occur to Silk that he wouldn’t be able to see tracks from the beast out here but a small opening caught his eye. Caves were likely dwellings for creatures but it also might hold answers about the shout he’d come to investigate. The only reason he’d strayed from the forest. He made his way down the mini slope and entered the cave.

It was relatively narrow and separated into two paths. One was larger, leading into the main cavern area. The other was dim and dingy. Of course, that was the one that was of interest to Silk. Carvings seemed to line the walls leading further into the passageway. Some were covered by an aquatic moss. As Silk glanced down the barely lit path, his hairs stood on end. Emboldened by the torches lighting the way, Silk slipped down the dark corridor. Somehow the torches succeeded in making the walkway seem more ominous. He could no longer hear the waves, only a soft trickle of water as the corridor snaked around towards the right. He paused by a picture on the wall, chiselled into the rock with precision. Two different groups of people. Those on the left were missing the upper half of their bodies, with what looked to be blood droplets spraying out from their legs. Those on the right seemed to be standing in a circle. Dancing as someone played a drum. A solitary figure hovered above with beads streaming down their face and two large weapons in their hand. Silk felt like he had pins pricking him all over his body. He followed the corridor, drinking in every image. None of the other etchings were quite so graphic but this beaded figure seemed to be present among most of them. Not that he could discern the stories completely from the pictures.

Silk felt the rock to see whether he could determine how long ago they were done. It crumbled slightly but he wasn’t well versed in stone. Between the external mist and the natural structure of the cave it could be a coincidence.
“I’m sure Medri would enjoy these” his voice hissed around the tunnel, rebounding between the walls and the ceiling.

When the echo died down, Silk noticed a muffled sound behind him. He spun around, hitting the back of his head on the wall and almost walking directly into the nearest torch. He hadn’t even noticed the cell. The bars were carved from wood instead of metal with slanted slats of another white material. It didn’t smell bad, at least, but he couldn’t make out what was in there. The figure looked smaller than him, anyway. Extracting a torch from the wall, he moved slowly towards the cage. He held the torch as close as he dared towards the wood.

“Do you have water?” the words were coarse.

The light from the torch bounced uncontrollably as Silk’s hand shook. It was a woman. Her stare was blank. Looking at the security of the cell, it seemed unlikely that she’d be able to do anything with water. Silk returned the torch to its holder, unfastened Blunt’s water skin from his hip and pushed his hand through the bars. She dragged herself forward on her hands with slow, laboured movements. She took the skin tentatively, unscrewed it with shaky hands before sniffing it. Her face fell slightly but she began drinking. As she guzzled the entire skin, Silk started to think about Galbo’s warnings about being gobbled by a creature. Creatures came in all shapes and sizes.

She closed the empty skein and handed it back to him, “thanks”.

“No problem”.

There were a million questions running through Silk’s head but none of them seemed like an adequate starting point. The expression on his face elicited a smile from her. He couldn’t see her well but he could see the whiteness of her teeth. Teeth that seemed human enough.

“Are you real?” she asked.

Silk scratched at his neck, “real? Yes. I think I heard you shout yesterday”.

“When I was out of the cave. Yalta let me out to relieve myself and stretch my legs. I sensed you so I shouted. No one had told me there were new visitors”.

Her skin was slick with sweat. Silk shoved at the bars, testing how strong the wood was. It didn’t budge, which was to be expected. He wasn’t sure whether that made him feel better or worse.

“Is that the Chieftain in the pictures on the wall?” he pivoted. Something about her made him feel uncomfortable.

“No, it’s…the Keeper” her voice was deep, an amalgamation of intonations and dialects. It differed from the rhythmic way the other Anzians spoke.
Silk reconsidered, “what is the one with the bodies?”.

“The Anzian massacre. Visitors, like you, came from the mainland claiming peace but all they brought were rules and evil. A revolt was led against them eventually to liberate the Anzians they captured. All of the intruders were subsequently murdered”.

“The people on the western side of the island who live in the tavern? But they’re not dead”.

“They were the children born of dual heritage. Galbo offered them leniency but they were to remain on his side of the island and adhere to the Anzian rules”.
Silk found himself drawn in by her story. It wasn’t that she had the delivery of a charismatic storyteller but the story did seem to carry the emotional weight of history for her. He could hear it in her voice. She also seemed to know the island well and wasn’t opposed to speaking with him. Which was more than could be said for the rest of the Chieftain’s settlement.

“Have you ever heard of the Lionare Unymajus?” he whispered, though the cave was traitorous to his request for secrecy.

The woman nodded loosely, clearly surprised that he didn’t dig deeper into Anzian history. The scholars would’ve jumped at the chance but it didn’t have anything to do with Silk’s plant.

“Does it grow in the forest?”.

She nodded again. Her eyes were not fully focused, but they were sizing Silk up the same way the Chieftain had. Silk tapped his fingers absently on the cold stone wall. All he had to do was get into the forest. The woman drew herself up slowly to full height. Silk had thought she had looked small but she’d been stooped down on her knee. Her height almost rivalled his. He couldn’t tell whether there were sandals on her feet.

“Who are you?” she stumbled slightly, Silk reached out an arm to steady her before remembering there were bars between them.

“Silk. I came here from the swampland near Kali. I’m not sure if you have maps here?”.

“I know the mainland”, she pressed herself towards the edge of the cell with her arm flopping through the bar, “the people there are just like the people here. You haven’t even considered letting me out”.

Silk tracked her movements as her arm curled around the bar. For a second, he expected her to simply snap the wood in half and reveal that she could get out this entire time but she didn’t. It was merely a means of keeping herself steady. The movement drew Silk’s attention to the lock on the door.

“In my defence, I did consider it when I walked in”.

“But you changed your mind?”.

“No one mentioned a prisoner. As an outsider, I think it’s best not to interfere with Anzian customs. Letting you go seems like an interference that would gain the attention of the Chieftain” he knelt down near the lock, assessing the shape of the bit. It was nothing special.

“So you don’t want to know why I’m in here?”, she wasn’t using the bar to hold herself up, she seemed to be trying to grab at Silk’s arm.

Every time she opened her mouth, he was filled with even more questions but he couldn’t voice them. He didn’t particularly want to leave her here but people locked up were unlikely to admit if they were guilty of a crime. And there was still the feeling of oddness.

“No?” she slithered back through the bar and sat down.

“I told you who I am, but who are you?” Silk couldn’t shake the hum in the room, as if the very cave was reacting to something.

He glanced back down the darkened corridor but there was nothing there. She seemed to sense something too.

The woman coughed, “Chalcy. What time is it?”.

“Just after dawn, I think. It’s hard to know with the mist. Is it a permanent mist?”.

“Yes, it never eases. You should leave then, the Chieftain will be here soon”.

Silk’s legs were not obeying the commands of his brain. Regardless of his desire to not make trouble, he wouldn’t be able to let her out now even if he wanted to. It seemed better to know as little about the situation as possible so he could cut focus on the plant.

“Do you need anything else?” Silk asked.

“Do you have anything else to give?”.

“No” Silk admitted before a strange thought came to his mind, “do you like shells? Or gold coins?”.

Chalcy lay down, her body hit the ground with a thud sending particles of dirt onto the stone surface where Silk stood.

“I’m not Reya”. So she did know the people on the island.

Silk built up the courage to ask the question he’d wanted to ask first, “why are you locked up?”.

She shuffled again. He couldn’t be sure in the light but he figured her back was to him.

“That’s a long story for another day”.

“No time like the present”.

When she spoke again Silk thought there was a smile in her voice, “there is actually something you can give me, Silk” his name seemed to echo around the cave as she said it.

It dawned on him how there were no bats or any other rodents and yet the island sustained life and seemed to have enough biodiversity to continue. He was perplexed but intrigued. If only the pictures on the wall gave him an insight into that too.

“What?”.

“I don’t know what you want with Lionare Unymajus. I think it’s best that I don’t know, but when you find it, rip it out from the root. All of it”.

“Destroy the ecosystem?” he asked aghast.

“You can replant it back where you come from, just remove it from Anzi”.

Silk nodded stiffly although it was likely she couldn’t see. He didn’t agree with making a promise he couldn’t keep so he said nothing before retracing his way back out the tunnel. He couldn’t hear anyone coming yet so he took the time to check the cavern. The mist had soaked through his clothes. He wasn’t sure how they’d managed to light torches in the cave to begin with, let alone keeping them lit. The main cavern didn’t contain any more drawings, it was just a dark empty space with clusters of hay lying around. A glint of amber to his left shone in the darkness. He picked it up. It was a spherical shape with decorated edges and holes. Silk peered through it but there didn’t seem to be anything inside however the hole would allow for him to fasten it to his belt with the thin twine he had in his other pocket. Midway through rooting through the hay, Silk heard voices outside the entrance of the cave. They were, of course, speaking in Anzian but he had grown accustomed to the sound of the Chieftain’s voice. Silk dropped to the floor and pressed himself into the corner of the cavern, careful to keep the amber ball hidden. Thinking about the Chieftain’s narrow eyes made him smother his mouth with his hand. Breathing in the cave was enough to get caught and it was no use running back towards the cell as that was likely where they were going. Footsteps pattered against the stone as they descended through the opening. Silk’s hamstrings cramped but he didn’t dare to move. The Chieftain was easy to make out in the dim lights due to the beads. The second pair of footsteps belonged to someone who he didn’t know from the settlement but he had seen before. An older woman who uttered a barrage of sentences, donning another colourful headwrap. The woman near the boat. Maybe she was the Yalta Chalcy had spoken of. The woman seemed to be complaining about something. Judging by the clattering sound of wood and the gentle aroma in the air, she was carrying food.
Silk counted the seconds again as he waited for them to go further down the hallway. The only word he seemed to catch was “Chalcy” which was uttered in a whisper. Silk had expected her to resist or pretend to be asleep but he could hear her voice. The Chieftain’s voice was slightly louder and carried snatches out of the corridor. Silk heard something about visitors arriving and that was enough to make him bolt. He removed his shoes again and walked slowly until he had passed the big rock where he began running. The sand made it hard to move quickly but he was grateful to be clear of the mist.

He was panting uncontrollably, partially from shock and the speed at which he’d run. By the time the settlement came into view, he could see the fast-moving heads of all of the people going about their daily tasks. Running wouldn’t look to be too out of place. He skirted across the square as Dolo waved over to him and he waved back before reaching his hut on the end and collapsing onto the sand. His sandals flew from his hand sprawling next to him. Silk welcomed the scorching heat on his back, despite the fact that the sand was likely to cling to his clothes. He could hear a voice calling him, booming through the settlement.

“Where have you been? We thought you were still asleep” Blunt practically shouted.

Silk put a finger to his lips. He was glad the Chieftain wasn’t nearby but he didn’t know how many of the Anzians could speak the common language and he didn’t want them to report back.

“I went to look for my plant” Silk said, the cogs in his brain turning.

“Well, where is it? You’ve been talking about it so much, I’d like to see it”.

“I got sidetracked by something”.

It was only at that moment that he realised the Chieftain had been speaking to Chalcy in the common language. That explained why her voice had sounded so different to the other Anzians. Whilst the Anzians who did speak the common language spoke with near fluency, Chalcy’s speech had been better than even Blunt’s. It wasn’t the tone of someone who’d learned the language after, and she’d known the mainland. But if she wasn’t Anzian, then why did they have her locked on their island?