Black Halo

‘Sees. Hears. Lies.’

‘What?’ he whispered inwardly.

‘Point being,’ Togu continued, ‘Teji warms all and all warm to Teji, in time.’ He settled back, taking another deep puff of his pipe. ‘I’m sure you could find your place in it, if you wished.’

‘Point being,’ Lenk retorted, ‘that we don’t. We appreciate the hospitality inasmuch as we can appreciate having loincloths slapped on us, but-’

‘We are mending your clothes. It takes time when we lack thread.’

‘That, too, is appreciated, which brings me to my next point,’ he continued. ‘We were wondering if we could ask a little more of you.’

Togu’s eyes shifted to him. ‘Ask away.’

‘A sea chart to find the nearest shipping lanes to the mainland, a boat to take us there, food to make it there and-’

‘Sword.’

‘And …’

‘Sword.’

‘Something …’

‘Need.’

‘Pants,’ Kataria interjected. ‘We want our pants back.’

‘Pants?’ Togu began to mutter, clouds of smoke roiling out of his nostrils. ‘Pants, pants, pants … It’s always pants with humans, isn’t it?’

‘What is it with lizardthings and calling me human? I’m not human!’ She took her ears in her hands, pulling them out for display. ‘Look at these things! They’re huge!’

‘Can you get us that sort of thing or not?’ Lenk asked with a sigh. ‘You can keep whatever it is you found from our wreckage in payment or we can work something out.’

‘What sort of something?’ Togu asked.

‘We can do … things.’

‘Such as?’

‘Kill stuff,’ Kataria said, sniffing, ‘mostly.’

‘We do other things,’ Lenk countered with a glare.

‘Like what?’ she asked, sneering.

‘Things, you know …’ He leaned back, twirling his hand in what he hoped was at least vaguely thoughtful. ‘Such as … well, Denaos, I know, can play the lute. You probably have something like that, right?’

‘Ah, yes, the tall one,’ Togu said, inclining his head approvingly. ‘My people are quite fond of him. Does he have anything to say about your decision to leave?’

‘Nothing worthwhile,’ Kataria replied. ‘The only thing missing by him, or the rest of them, not being here is a bunch of whining and probably some attempt at innuendo or something stupid like that.’ She frowned, shrugging. ‘So can we have the boat or not?’

Before Togu could even open his mouth, Lenk whirled upon her.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Negotiating.’

‘No, you’re just speaking loudly. You don’t understand negotiation.’ He tapped his chest. ‘That’s what I do.’

‘So … don’t this time,’ she replied, regarding him curiously. ‘Is that such a problem?’

‘It isn’t, you know.’

‘You be quiet,’ Lenk snarled.

‘Who be quiet?’ Togu asked.

‘Why even negotiate? Why leave? Everything you need is right here.’

‘Everything we need …’ Lenk whispered to himself.

The words seeped into him on the silence inside his head, sowing his mind with seeds of comfort. In his brain, they began to bloom, a calm logic spreading over him. Why was this important? he wondered. Why go back to the fighting and death on the mainland? What was the point of it all?

Everything he needed was here: sun, water, food, and though she may have been regarding him with a stare that twitched between confusion and worry, she was here, too. He smiled, not knowing why, not caring why.

‘No.’

It came back, a sudden frost that swept over his mind, killed the blooming calm. His skull throbbed with fear, anger, contempt, all swirling about his mind, all carrying the voice through.

‘Cannot leave now.’

‘Cannot leave now,’ he whispered.

‘What?’ Kataria asked.

‘Then,’ Togu muttered, hope rising in his voice, ‘you wish to stay?’

‘Need to stay … need to kill …’

‘Kill,’ he uttered quietly.

‘What was that?’ Togu asked.

‘Lenk …’ she whispered, leaning close.

‘Lies all around us. Surrounded by worthlessness. Need to kill. Need to stay.’

‘Need …’

‘Sword.’

‘Sword.’

‘Sword?’ Kataria asked.

‘Need sword.’

‘Need it,’ he whispered.

‘Need what?’ Togu asked.

‘Sword.’

‘Sword.’

‘Sword!’

‘Not again, Lenk …’

‘SWORD!’

‘WHERE IS IT?’

Togu recoiled, threatening to teeter off his throne as Lenk leapt to his feet and flung an icy stare at him. Lenk could feel his lids narrowing to slits, feel himself freezing despite the sun, but did not care. His head throbbed with need; his hands hungered for leather and steel.

‘Where is it?’ he demanded, not hearing the rasp of his voice. ‘Where is my sword? I need it … I …’ He took a step forward, leg trembling. ‘Need it.’

It was cold at that moment. He could feel his flesh prickle, hairs standing on end, feel the departure of buzzing insects, as though his skin was suddenly unhallowed ground. All of nature seemed to follow their example: the sun averted its warmth, the air was strangled into a crisp chill.

‘No.’

Even he would not have heard himself whimper if he didn’t know he had said the words; his voice was throttled, frozen in his throat. He did not dare to speak louder for fear of what might emerge instead.

He stared into Togu’s ever-widening eyes and knew that such a thing was wrong, not merely because such a feat seemed impossible for the creature’s already tremendous stare. Rather, he was familiar with such an expression, familiar with the fear embedded in a face rendered speechless by a voice not his own.

Familiarity turned to pain the instant he felt her eyes upon him. Clearness gone, softness gone, now hard, scrutinising, studying, watching, peering, probing.

‘Staring.’

‘Stop …’ he whispered so softly only he could hear it.

Or so he thought.