Julatsan shrugged. ‘Information’s patchy but there’s no obvious pattern or epicentre. Whatever, I think it’s a good job we’re leaving tomorrow.’
‘You’ve found a boat, then?’ asked Darrick.
‘And a guide. It’s not easy to navigate. I’m glad I don’t have to rely on my memory. Watercourses change, local landscape alters . . . you know.’
‘Not really, Ilks, no,’ said Hirad. ‘But then you’ve been around a lot longer than the rest of us, haven’t you?’
‘You could say.’ Ilkar smiled. It was always a slightly sad smile, Hirad thought. The subject brought home to Ilkar his relative immortality.
‘How worried should we be?’ asked The Unknown.
‘People are scared,’ said Ren. ‘Not so much here - the dock doesn’t seem affected yet - but fear spreads. They’ll be looking for something to blame and it doesn’t take much to figure out where the finger’ll be pointed first.’
‘Better get yourselves elven ears quickly,’ said Ilkar.
‘I’d rather take the abuse,’ said Hirad.
‘No pun intended but can we return to the point?’ The Unknown rapped his fork on the table. ‘Tell me who’s getting this thing and what happens when they do.’
‘From what we’ve seen it’s indiscriminate. Young, old, male, female, rich and poor,’ said Ren. ‘I don’t think it’s to do with living conditions. There are no outward signs - no sores or boils.’
‘No, nor any fever,’ added Ilkar. ‘From what we’ve been able to find out, it affects balance, brings on bouts of sickness and muscle weakness. One mage we found said she thought there was organ damage but it’s too early to say.’
‘Strange,’ said Darrick. ‘And how many have died?’
‘So far none, but it’s early days,’ said Ren. ‘Perhaps it’ll run its course and people will recover, but if there are deaths and no cure is forthcoming, it’ll just accelerate the panic we’ve already seen.’
‘And you’re hoping to get mages to leave here and travel to Balaia?’ said The Unknown. ‘You’ll be lucky if any ships are allowed to sail if this is a plague.’
‘The thought had crossed my mind. And no mage will leave here while there’s work they feel they can do.’
‘I’d have thought it a great reason to leave,’ said Hirad. ‘They might be saving themselves, after all.’
Ilkar shook his head. ‘You don’t understand elven society, Hirad. It’s honour-based, not driven by profit and magic like Balaia.’
‘So you should stay too?’ said the barbarian.
‘That’s a tricky one,’ said Ilkar. ‘If this is serious I’ll have to think about it, but I don’t belong here. My home is Julatsa. I feel no ties like elves who have lived here all their lives or only visited Balaia to train. It wouldn’t be dishonourable to leave, but that won’t make it easy.’
‘Don’t even think about it,’ said The Unknown. ‘We have to find mages to help you raise the Heart of Julatsa or this disease, whatever it is, will seem a mere inconvenience by comparison.’
Hirad could see they were attracting glances from further down their table and behind them.
‘I think we should keep our voices down,’ he said quietly.
‘We should do more than that,’ said The Unknown. ‘Let’s get back to the inn and stay in our rooms until first light tomorrow. I don’t like what I’m feeling. Anyone know when Denser and Erienne planned on getting back?’
Ilkar shook his head. ‘I shouldn’t worry about them. They’re mages and any elf will know it. They won’t be harmed. Asked to help maybe but not harmed.’
They stood up to go, Ilkar apologising to the serving boy who’d brought a plate of meat and cheese. He left coins for everything and led them outside.
‘Will we catch it, do you think?’ asked Hirad.
‘No idea,’ said Ilkar. ‘It’s not something we can really worry about right now, is it?’
He shrugged and walked on, trying to appear unconcerned, but Hirad could see that underneath anxiety was building. Not for himself, but for the ramifications of his mage-gathering mission. Hirad hoped dawn would bring some cheer but somehow he doubted it.
Mercuun’s fall was as shocking as it was predictable. A terribly slow climb up the banyan to the rope bridge had preceded a clumsy, nerve-shredding drag across the River Ix, Mercuun’s weakness and lack of balance a constant threat to them both.
Five times Rebraal had had to clutch the ropes of the yawing bridge as his friend slipped or stumbled, ignoring the fire that was his left shoulder to help Mercuun, or stand by him as he recovered his breath.
It was awful to watch. Mercuun had been the most sure-footed