Watcher's Web

Watcher's Web Chapter 25

Daya paced across cracked and dusty pavement, lifting up broken tiles with strands of energy and smashing them against walls and floors.

Shadows of Pengali hid in the corners of the room, or in the corridor. Sometimes they whispered. When Daya tried to talk to them, they scurried away, but always returned. Watching, observing him. Whispers of her name echoed in the empty rooms. Anmi, Anmi.

Why did they want her?

Ask them, and you might find out.

There was a shout outside, and Daya ran to the door, hoping against hope to see Anmi's tall figure. He stared into the darkness of the yard. A group of Pengali ran out the gate. Where were they going? Did they know something he didn’t? She was at the guesthouse, in bed with the Mirani Trader.

The thought burned, ate at him. Yesterday, she had coerced him into doing what he hadn’t intended to do. It had been good, but he suffered for it; she suffered for it. And now …

*

Jessica lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The patter of rain was only disturbed by the sound of Iztho’s breathing. He lay on his side facing the door, his hair fanned out over the mattress. Strands of it stuck to the sweaty skin on her stomach.

Jessica peeled it off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Heat washed over her in waves. In her chest, in her cheeks and face. Her skin had stopped itching, but now glowed and throbbed as if it was some sort of after-effect of the flushing.

She staggered to the bathroom, where she scooped handfuls of sulphur-scented water over her naked skin. Goosebumps spread from her arms to her stomach, but underneath, she still felt hot.

Damn that flushing. Coldi women controlled it, Iztho had said, but she wasn’t Coldi. More and more, she worried about it. Was yesterday afternoon really the first time it had happened to her? She had felt hot right from the moment she had met Daya. She sat down on the edge of the bath, rough stone on her naked buttocks.

Stay calm.

She pressed her hands together in front of her face. The flow of energy came easily and no longer hurt. Bright light flooded the bathroom.

*

In the darkness of the alley, Daya stumbled amongst a throng of Pengali. Lithe bodies squeezed past him into a square ahead. Floodlights cast their ghostly glow over a sea of people, dancing, moving, writhing; many with wreaths of white flowers on their heads. Heavy drum beats reverberated in his chest. Whistles, shouts, patterned skin gleaming with oil. Rain hissed down, but no one took any notice.

Daya leaned back against the rough trunk of a tree, contemplating how he was going to cross the square without being dragged into some dance. If one more of those leery female creatures touched him with any part of her body … He shuddered.

Anmi was in the guesthouse; he could feel her. Except he couldn’t go that far; there were Mirani guards at the entrance, far too many for him to overpower by himself.

Everywhere he went the natives spoke her name Anmi, Anmi. Questions hovered in their eyes. Where was she? Why wasn’t she with him?

Because I stuffed up.

He had failed, and he didn’t understand why. You have no idea how to relate to people. Ennai had said that, in the fight that led to their break-up. His relationship with Ennai had been a mistake from the beginning, but living amongst the Coldi at Hedron, he had once entertained the illusion that he could be like them, that he could be normal, accepted.

Wrong. He had never been like them. He would never be like them. His life belonged not to his parents who had cast him out, not to his uncle’s business, but to the girl, to Anmi. It was his task to protect her, to keep her safe, so she didn’t end up like Ivedra. And he had failed.