But as he looked up into the canopy and their hundred-foot climb, his confidence wavered. He had seen Meru stumble over the merest root. And he himself could only rely on one arm. The other was as good as useless, the strength of his grip diminished by the wound in his shoulder.
‘It seems so high,’ said Mercuun, staring up and out over the river.
High above the muddy flow, where the canopy leant in on both sides, the practised eye could see a trio of tensed ropes among the leaves and branches. Used by elves and monkeys alike, the crossing spanned the one-hundred-yard width of the River Ix. Upriver, a waterfall more than five hundred feet high plunged into a huge sheltered pool, its outflow slackened by long lazy twists in the deep river. Way downstream, where the Ix narrowed, rocks hastened the water through a cramped ravine before the river spilled back out into its natural slow state. And everywhere along its length, death lurked beneath the surface.
‘We can make it,’ assured Rebraal, leaving unspoken the fact that they would never swim the river. They were too weak and too much blood scent clung to them. They’d been lucky with panthers and jaguars. That luck would not hold out there in the water. ‘You go first. I’ll watch for you. I won’t let you fall.’
Mercuun dragged himself to his feet, leaning against the palm to steady himself before following Rebraal down to the towering banyan around which the ropes were fastened on this side, lost beneath a tangle of vines and secured from rotting by resin, oils and the occasional spell. He breathed deep, clenched his fists, took a brief glance up and began to climb.
‘There’s something wrong here,’ said The Unknown. ‘Can’t you feel it?’
Hirad shrugged. They were sitting in an eatery on the docks with Darrick and Thraun. Ilkar said it was a typical elven establishment, characterised by long tables and benches, high ceilings, plenty of windows and exotic-tasting soups and meats. It was busy but there was clear space between them and the rest of the predominantly elven clientele.
The Julatsan and Ren had agreed to meet them inside, while Erienne and Denser visited the city markets. Aeb, who had drawn the odd interested glance when they docked, was at the inn, speaking to his brothers, communing in the Soul Tank.
‘Elves don’t like us very much, you mean?’ said Hirad.
‘No, not that. And they’ve been perfectly civil so far, if a little reserved. No. There’s an atmosphere, like a growing fear of something. I can’t put my finger on it. You don’t feel anything?’
‘No.’ Hirad shovelled more soup-soaked bread into his mouth.
The Unknown shook his head. ‘I don’t know why I bother. You’ve got a skull thicker than a dragon’s. Darrick, what about you?’
‘Hard to say,’ said the former Lysternan general, leaning forward. ‘There’s an air of vague disquiet round the docks but that’s just lack of trade, I’d say. Nothing really sinister in it.’
Hirad looked at The Unknown, feeling a familiar sense of unease. Fifteen years he’d known the big man and he was hardly ever wrong. And since his, albeit brief, time as a Protector his instinct for trouble and danger had heightened still further. His expression told Hirad he was sure about this one.
The barbarian switched his attention to Thraun. The shapechanger had been feeding himself as though he’d not eaten for days but was now staring at The Unknown, mouth half open and next spoonful forgotten. The Unknown indicated him.
‘Thraun knows what I’m talking about,’ he said. ‘Don’t you, Thraun?’
There might have been the merest suggestion of a nod, but aside from that no reaction.
‘So what is it?’ asked Darrick.
‘Just a hint at the moment,’ said The Unknown. ‘Like overripe fruit. Sickly sweet and on the way to rotting. Whatever it is, it’s below the skin of the city now but won’t be for long.’
‘I’m not with you,’ said Hirad.
A moment later, Ilkar walked in with Ren and confirmed everything.
‘There are sick people all over the place,’ he said, sitting down and waving at a servant boy to come over. ‘It’s weird. Everywhere we’ve been.’
‘Plague?’ The Unknown raised his eyebrows.
‘If it is, it’s a new one on me. We’ve spoken to mages who can find no cause, just effects. And the traditional healers are struggling with the numbers. Only started a couple of days ago, apparently.’
‘You were right then, Unknown,’ said Hirad.
‘Unfortunately.’ he said. ‘What’s your view, Ilkar?’