That night, Marcus and I produced our blankets from our pack and found a quiet niche behind a small pile of empty barrels. At least, we assumed it was night – the dingy light had faded somewhat, but not completely, and the streets were still visible even before the lamps were lit. I had thought I would have trouble sleeping, with the worry for Lilidd and the lack of proper darkness, but the moment my head touched the ground I was away. I am sure Marcus followed me just as quickly.
I did not dream that night. I woke once, and was unsure whether morning had arrived – there were still people coming and going, buying and selling, but the lamps were still out, and I had the feeling that I had not slept long. Maybe people didn’t sleep here, and that was why the light didn’t fade properly. It wasn’t the strangest idea that had come to me since yesterday morning.
I must have dropped back to sleep again, for the next thing I knew, Marcus was shaking me gently and telling me it was morning. I grunted at him, and rolled over, but opened my eyes anyway.
“Morning.” I muttered bitterly. “Some morning. How do they cope without the sun?”
“We’ll get back to the sun soon enough.” Marcus told me reassuringly. “Have something to eat.”
He handed me a couple of traveller’s biscuits and a handful of dried fruit, which I nibbled on. The shops around us had changed overnight, and the smell of cooking meat now filled my nostrils, making my meal seem unappetising. Nevertheless, I ate it. We had nothing to trade here, so no way of getting better food.
“There has to be more to this place than shops.” I said, after a few minutes chewing. “Where do they get their food from? Or their iron, or wood, or cloth?”
“I agree – a town this size needs acres of fields supporting it, at the very least.” Marcus said. “But how do we find it? The whole place shifts behind our backs – I think it doesn’t want us to find our way.”
“I wish me had a map.”
“It probably wouldn’t be that useful.”
“I know.” I replied. “But it’d help me focus. I feel like I’m drifting, being pushed around by someone else. Or something else. I hate not knowing what’s going on.”
“There’s not much we can do about that.” He reminded me, easing himself to his feet. “We’ll just have to carry on like yesterday, and hope something comes up.”
“I know.” I may have resigned myself to it, but it didn’t make me feel any better. With I sigh, I stood too.
“Which way?” Marcus asked.
“Does it matter?”
“Probably not.”
“Let’s go left, then.”
We searched. We had lunch. We searched some more. No one had seen Lilidd, although more people recalled hearing about her today, or talking to people who had seen her, than had come forward yesterday. Possibly they were making it up, or they had heard that there were people looking, and had thought about it more. I couldn’t tell – everyone here acted as though they were only telling you half the truth, even if they being completely honest. It gave me a headache.
One lady we met advised us to pay a visit to a certain old man she knew of, an “outsider like yourselves, dears”, who had a bit of a reputation for nosing around and finding things out. It sounded promising, so we listened carefully to her directions and set off.
“Left on to Tumbling Hill Lane.” I pointed out the road sign, and Marcus nodded agreement. We turned and kept our eyes peeled for the next road, Chasing Alley, heading off on the right. However, the end of the street arrived before the alley. We looked at each other in exasperation – we must have missed it.
“Excuse me.” Marcus stopped a passing man. “Can you tell us where Chasing Alley is?”
“Oh, you just missed it.” The man replied. “If you turn right here, and take the Market road when you reach the square, Chasing Alley will be just down there.”
“But we were told it was down Tumbling Hill.” I said, thinking about the woman who had given us these directions.
“Nah. You want Market Road, sure enough.”
“Alright, then.” Marcus nodded. “Thanks.”
The two of us exchanged shrugs as we walked away. I hadn’t thought the woman had been leading us on, but clearly the alley wasn’t where she said it would be. With any luck, these new directions would take us where we wanted to go.
Clearly, though, today was not a lucky day. After a walk down the new street we had been directed on to, we could not even find a square, let alone Market Road. I could feel frustration rising, and I knew Marcus would be feeling it too – he had always had a shorter temper than me, and this wild goose chase wouldn’t be helping.
“Let’s head back to Tumbling Hill Lane and start again.” I suggested, trying to keep a cool head.
“Good idea. And maybe we can find that woman again – I’d like to give her a piece of my mind.”
“I’m sure you would.” I laughed as we turned back. “And I’d almost like to see it.”
The day didn’t get any better. Half an hour later, we had not only failed to find the old man that we had been searching for, but even Tumbling Hill Lane, despite the fact that it had only been at the other end of the road we were on, and that we had retraced our steps exactly. The stalls that I recalled passing as we turned off the lane were still present, but where the street opening should have been, there was a solid brick wall, which gave no indication that it had even stood anywhere else.
“Don’t lose your temper.” I told Marcus sternly. “I’ll go ask someone.”
“That hasn’t done us much good so far.” He muttered. He was right, of course, but what else was there to do?
“We’re trying to find Tumbling Hill Lane.” I told a man selling second hand furniture. “It was right here a while ago.”
“Yeah.” He told me with a smile. “You want to go to the end of the street and turn left down the street before the end. “Greengale Road. Walk down there till you hit the animal pens, then another left, and it’s down there.”
“But it was right here.” I told him. “Half an hour ago.”
“Well, it ain’t here now.”
I sighed. “Greengale Road?”
“You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.”
I walked back to Marcus, and explained the directions. He growled at me.
“Well, we can follow them or not.” I told him. “What do you want to do?”
“Might as well give it one more go.” He replied grumpily. “But I bet you it won’t get us anywhere.”
“No bet.” I told him. “But what else is there to do?”
And so we walked. Surprising, there was a turning labelled Greengale, although it was more of a back alley than a road. Still, it was where we had been told to go.
Only a few steps in to Greengale, it became apparent that it was a dead end. Gloomy as it was down there, it had taken us those few steps to notice the stone wall blocking the way at the end. Marcus swore fluently. I just muttered a few angry words under my breath and turned back.
Three young men blocked the way back to the main street. All of them had knives. I nudged Marcus to get him to turn around, and shifted my staff in my hands, readying myself for a fight.
“You ain’t welcome down here.” One of the men told us. I took a look at his knife, which was rusty and pitted. It was clearly well used, but very badly cared for. A knife like that didn’t have to cut anything vital – the sickness the blade would give you would kill you just as surely.
“Alright lads.” Marcus said steadily, his deep voice calm. “We’re not here to make trouble.”
“Too late.” One of the other men replied nastily.
“And, considering the day I’ve had,” Marcus continued, “You don’t want to make trouble with me.” He eased his hunting knife from its sheath and held it where everyone could see. Even in the dim light, I could see the three of them pale at the sight of it. “How about we do this another time?”
The first man who had spoken stepped forward. I nearly laughed – he was nervous as hell, but I knew he was thinking of his reputation more than his life. Still he looked as though his legs wanted to be moving much faster, in the opposite direction.
“We don’t like strangers down our streets.” He told us.
“If you really didn’t like it, you’d have attacked us already.” Marcus replied. “Still, you could just let us go, and you wouldn’t have to get hurt.”
With a growl, the man jumped at Marcus. His friends, very sensibly, kept their distance. The rusty knife slashed through the air where Marcus’ throat had been a few moments earlier, then found itself skittering across the cobbles. The man himself followed it, landing face down on the ground as Marcus disarmed and tripped him.
The two men in the mouth of the alley broke and ran, leaving their friend to scramble to his feet and follow more reluctantly.
“I have an idea.” He told me as he resheathed his knife.
“What?”
“Let’s not follow any more directions.”
“I like that idea.” Together, keeping an eye out for more attackers, we headed back to the main street.
“It’ll be getting dark soon.” Marcus said, after an afternoon spent trying to find a way of searching for Lilidd without following directions. “Darker. We should find somewhere to bed down for the night.”
“I don’t understand why things don’t quieten down in the evenings.” I told him, agreeing with a nod.
“Do you expect to understand anything here?”
“But this street is getting even busier than it has been.” I ignored his question, and gestured around instead. Stepping aside to allow a pair of young men, carefully balancing a tall chest of drawers between them, to pass, I realised I had stepped away from Marcus. Twirling, I located him again, and pushed my way back. He saw my panic, and grinned, reached out his hand towards me.
“Relax, girl.” He told me. “I’ve told you, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’ll feel better if we could find a less busy stretch of road.” Was my reply. He nodded, and we began to walk, joining the steady flow of people down the street.
Only a few moments later, the crowd thinned as we entered a square. People seemed to be lining the area, some with flags, others with strange masks made of wood and grass. Both Marcus and I looked around, wondering what was going on.
“Kurenti.” A man told me when I asked. “Parade time.”
Kurenti. The name wasn’t familiar, but then I wasn’t expecting to recognise too much in this strange place. Thinking it would be a good idea to stand back, however, I pulled Marcus over to a wall, well away from the front of the crowd.
“This isn’t my idea of less busy.” Marcus commented. “Maybe we should try the other direction.”
“Can’t.” I had to raise my voice slightly to be heard over the crowd. “The entrance to the street is gone.”
I had noticed only moments ago, having had the same idea. Where there had been a stream of people flowing in to the square, there was now a solid, red brick wall, without even a doorway to allow people to pass through. I wondered what would happen to the people in the middle – whether they would stay on one side or the other, or get swallowed up in the shifting of the streets.
“Have to find another way, then.” Marcus said. And so, we began our search, sticking close to the walls. Looking over the heads of the people, Marcus saw an alley along the next edge, but by the time we had reached it, it was gone too. I felt distinctly like someone was playing with us. Maybe we should just sit the ‘parade’ out, and wait for everyone else to leave. I mentioned it to Marcus.
“Sounds like the best plan. We’re not getting anywhere here. Look,” He pointed to a spot behind me. “There’s an alcove over there – we’ll be out of the bustle.”
He was right. It was a relief not to be jostled from left and right. I welcomed the opportunity to clear my head, and try to work out a way to improve our situation.
Loud drums interrupted my thoughts. Peering out from the alcove, I saw the tops of spears in a cluster at one side of the square. All of the spear tips had coloured grasses wrapped around the base, making them seem more ceremonial than war-like. The parade had begun.
Some sort of flute joined the drums, and a squeaky string instrument that might have been a violin played badly. The spears dipped and twirled, and occasionally flew into the air, to be caught and spun again. Even with my restricted view, it was an impressive display.
And then the crowds parted slightly, and I saw the spear-carriers. They were part of some sort of tribe – all male, all wearing lengths of cloth tied to their legs to form trousers, and all without shirts. Their faces, however, were masked with larger versions of the ones I had seen in the crowd – wooden features, painted bright colours, with large stylised tongues hanging down to their chests. The whole thing was edged with fur and grass, and reminded me somewhat of a lion’s mane. The men danced and swept their spears, moving slowly across the square.
“That’s incredible.” Marcus breathed, staring at the display. I realised he wanted a closer look, so to save him the trouble of asking, I grabbed his hand and pushed out into the crowd once more.
We followed the parade for a while simply by the bobbing of the spear tips. There was singing now, complimenting the music, and I wondered if they were telling a story, or simply making noise. Finally, we found the front, and had a clear view.
The men had stopped, and had formed a circle. As one, the spear butts clacked together in the middle, before the men sent them flying across the circle to a friend on the opposite side. After a bout of leaping and spinning, the circle broke, and the men scattered towards the crowds, pulling people into their dance.
Marcus and I were dragged forwards and introduced to one of many circles of strangers, all of them pulled from the audience, all spinning clockwise. On the drum beat, we stamped our feet, between the beats we danced round and round, with a masked man in the middle performing incredible acrobatics. Despite our trouble, I began to enjoy myself. No one was trying to hurt us, or deceive us. All there was to worry about was the beat, and dancing in time with it.
I don’t know how long we trod that circle, framing the performance of the man in the centre. I remember feeling slightly trance-like, as though there was nothing else in the world but the dance. I also remember how the masked dancers scattered, with no warning, and whirled between people, bumping and pushing, and occasionally knocking people over. The music reached a climax, wild and uncontrolled, and the men spun, and spun, and spun.
Two beats of the drum, in quick succession. Two more beats. Then silence. The dancers froze with the end of the music, in whatever poses they were in. Finally, to much slower beats, they straightened, formed neat, military ranks, and paced steadily away.
I watched them go, exhilarated and out of breath. That had been wild. And slightly scary, towards the end. I wondered if this sort of thing happened every day.
“Well.” I said to Marcus, eyes still fixed on the backs of the retreating men. “You were right. That was incredible.” Beaming, I turned to see his reaction.
He wasn’t beside me.
My smile dropped. He had been right there. I had held his hand through the dance – where had he gone?
“Marcus?” I called, panning round in an attempt to find him. “Marcus, don’t you dare do this to me.” There, a few people away, a tall man with dark hair. It was the back of Marcus’ head. I sighed, and pushed over to him.
“I said, don’t do that…” The man looked round, smiled in a polite sort of way, and wandered off. Not Marcus. And no one else nearby who looked remotely like him.
I was alone. Marcus was gone.
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