… been alone now. It seems like years. It sounds like madness, but I think this place split us up. Taren was the last to go – just a couple of days ago, I think. I cannot be sure. All I know for certain is that I cannot survive here on my own. Things are just too strange. The sun never seems to rise – the sky gets lighter for a while, but it is a dingy light, like it has passed through plate glass. I am entirely at the mercy of the strangers around me, and the longer I stay here, the stranger they get. I must find the way out, with or without my companions. It isn’t easy, since the stalls move around, and even the buildings seem to shift. I was certain I was on the right track just yesterday, having recognised a book seller from whom I obtained this very volume, but the arch leading to the real world did not appear. The people I ask give me directions which prove…
I read through the scrap of parchment twice, clenching it tightly in one hand. Marcus stood behind me, reading over my shoulder. The words were not encouraging. Although the torn page had long since been parted from whatever log or diary it had been part of, it was clear the author had been in the same predicament as us. Suddenly worried about loosing Marcus, I reached out and clasped his hand.
“Don’t worry, girl.” He muttered, squeezing my hand reassuringly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
With a grim smile, I turned back to the bookseller whose stall we had found ourselves at. I waved the scrap at him.
“Do you know what book this came from?” I asked, handing it over. The man scanned it.
“Where did you pick it from?” He asked.
“It was under this pile.” I told him, patting a stack of books. “It wasn’t attached to anything.”
“Don’t recognise the words. Could be from anywhere.” Maybe he saw my disappointment, or maybe he was just building up to his own brilliance, but he relented then. “Might be I could find out…” Slowly, he tore a small piece from the corner of the scrap with his teeth, and chewed on it thoughtfully. I stared bemusedly.
After a while of slewing the parchment from cheek to cheek, he spat it out onto the ground. Smacking his lips in apparent appreciation of his bizarre meal, he nodded.
“One of mine. Must be… three year ago. Nice young man, wanted to write things down. Told him there’s no call for that, but he insisted. So, sold him a blank, never saw him again.”
“A blank?” Marcus asked.
“Blank. Empty book. It’s blank if there ain’t nothing in it.” He looked thoughtful. “Come to think of it, I did see him again. Couple’a months later. Looked worse, shallower. Said something to me… what was it…?” I waited, wondering if this unknown man’s words would help, or just renew my feeling of hopelessness. “Oh yes. I remember. He said…”
“You! I’ve met you before! The first day I was here. Right where I came in. That means I’m close! Aren’t I? Can you tell me? For God’s sake, man, can you tell me, am I close? Can I get out?”
I blinked and automatically stepped back. Marcus caught my elbow and steadied me. What was that?
The bookseller was still talking, unaware of the effect his recounting had had on me. I tried to listen to his words.
“…and left at the tent, the one with the herbs hanging, and he’d be there. So he ran off. That was the last I saw of him. For certain.”
“Do you know if he got out?” Marcus asked.
The bookseller shrugged. “Doubt it. Went the wrong way, didn’t he.”
“You gave him directions.” I said, unsure if I had followed the conversation properly.
“Yes. But he ran off once they were wrong.”
I blinked at him. Marcus, seeming to realise that we weren’t going to get a sensible answer from the man, pulled me away, pausing only to retrieve the page, which the bookseller was more than happy to part with. Once we had reached a relatively quiet corner of the busy street, we turned to each other.
“What happened there?” I asked.
“I don’t know. You looked about to fall over.”
“I…” I thought about what I had seen. The bookseller had repeated the words spoken to him, three years ago, but while he had said them…
“It was like… like that man was there, the man that bought the book, saying his words over again. I saw him.” Marcus looked sceptical. “As he said ‘For God’s sake’, he reached over and grabbed the seller by the collar. I could hear his voice, feel the air move as he passed.” I clenched my fists in frustration. “It was like I was right there.”
“We’re going to have to be careful in this place. They seem to take for granted things that would never exist in our world.
I nodded my agreement. Since we had walked under that arch, little more than an hour ago, it seemed as though all normal rules had been suspended. People sold things that no one would ever want to buy, would haggle for a lower price for things they were selling, and even switch stalls with no warning or explanation. I had watched one man throw up his hands in disgust, and storm out from his stall into the street. Almost immediately, a younger woman had walked by, seen the absence of the seller, and had taken his place, selling broken wheels, bent barrel hoops, and even fist-sized chunks of wood.
If the people moved around without warning, then the buildings and tents were just as bad. You could walk down a street with a crenulated wall running down one side, and food vendors lining the path, but on reaching the end and turning around, the street would be doing a roaring trade in leather working, with only a couple of crumbling brick buildings on either side to define the road. Nothing was constant, and I felt like a child again, standing at my father’s knee, trying to understand trade negotiations that I had no knowledge of.
“Come on.” Marcus gripped me in a one armed hug. “We won’t find Lilidd standing here.”
We spent the rest of that day passing from stall to stall, shop to shop, trying to find someone who had seen Lilidd. Nobody recognised our descriptions. To be honest, most of them didn’t try. People here seemed ignorant, or stupid, or just plain unhelpful – however, none of them were ever rude. I probably met more cheerful people in that one day than my entire life, and it made it all the more frustrating when they couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help us.
“We’re looking for a woman.” I’d ask. “She arrived here a few weeks ago. About my height, dark hair, useless at geography. Called Lilidd. Have you seen her?”
One man had looked me up and down at this point, and asked pointlessly, “How do you spell that?”
I spelt Lilidd’s name for him. He frowned at me.
“Well, surely that should say ‘Lilid’?” He pointed out. I sighed.
“No. Two ‘d’s are pronounced like ‘th’. It’s ‘Lilith’.”
“Well, that’s daft.”
“Not really.” Marcus told him.
“Who’d keep a name like that?”
“Our friend.” I tried to get the conversation back on course. “Have you seen her? However you spell her name?”
“It ain’t how you spell it that’s the problem, lassy.” The man had told me. “It’s how you say it.”
“How about you forget about the spelling and just tell us if you’ve seen her?” Marcus had used his threatening voice at that point. I don’t think the man even noticed, however.
“I just said, it ain’t the spelling. You can’t go around saying two ‘d’s are ‘th’. No one’s going to buy that.”
It was around that point we had given up. The man had objected as we walked away, but I could tell Marcus was close to knocking him unconscious, and I don’t think I would have stopped him.
No one else was quite that problematic, but still, after a few hours of asking, we were no closer to Lilidd.
“Ain’t gonna find her that way.” A familiar little voice piped up, as we stopped to ferret some dried meat from our pack and have a hasty lunch. I paused mid chew, and turned to find the young boy who had spoken to us out in the valley.
Marcus had seen him too. Never one to waste words on people he disliked, the man stepped forward and clamped a hand around the boy’s upper arm.
“Where is she?” He growled. I swallowed quickly and laid my hand on Marcus’ arm, cautioning him. He didn’t release his grip, but took a deep breath and leant back, letting me get close.
The boy was staring at Marcus with suspicion, although I was surprised to find no fear. Like the last time they had been this close, the boy seemed completely at his ease.
“Do you know where Lilidd is?” I asked him, crouching down to look him in the eye.
“No.”
“Do you know where she was going? When she got here, I mean?”
“No.”
“But you saw her arrive.”
“That don’t mean nothing.”
I sat back on my haunches and stared at the child. I didn’t think he was lying, but I was more than certain he was being difficult, hiding something. I just had to ask the right questions.
“I know what’ll shift his tongue.” Marcus said, and miraculously let the boy go. Uncertain, he stood there, wondering what the larger man was planning. It was only as Marcus reached for his belt purse that I realised as well.
“Copper.” He pulled out three coins, and waved them in front of the boy. “Boys are always after money. Three copper now, and three once we’ve found her.”
“Coin?” It had been the wrong decision. I knew the moment that word left the boy’s lips. He looked haughty. “You can’t buy folk here. Not with piddly bits of metal like that.” And before either of us could stop him, he had darted away, melting into the crowd.
“Boy!” Marcus roared, but it was no use. I stood again.
“Well. Better luck next time.”
“He was being difficult on purpose. Trying to keep us here.”
“Everyone here seems to be doing that.” I told my friend, thinking about it. “But I’m not sure they see it that way.”
“Don’t try and understand this place, Tanya.” Marcus advised me. “Concentrate on getting out. The sooner we’re back in the real world, the better.”
I made a non-committal noise, and followed Marcus as he walked off to find another stall owner to talk to. There was nothing else to do.
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