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  Shadow Singer

  The Ni-lach

  Book II

  Marcia J Bennett

  A Dey Rey Book

  Copyright © 1984 by Marcia J. Bennett

  ISBN 0-345-31776-9

  First Edition: September 1984

  Cover art by Barclay Shaw

  Map by Shelly Shapiro

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

  Dedication

  This story is dedicated to my parents, Richard and Reatha with special thanks to Kristin, who introduced me to Screech.

  Chapter 1

  Singer, Singer, set the pattern.

  Those who follow, will be friend.

  THE SONG CAME EASILY TO HER LIPS. ONE OF THE OLD songs, it told the story of the Ni-lach Seeker Toreth and his journey to the lake valley of Mar-lion, where the first Ni were said to have walked on land, leaving the security of their water homes in exchange for unknown dangers on a green world where draak and gensvolf had reigned supreme for thousands of years.

  As Pocalina-fel-Jamba sang about the valley’s tree-shaded hills and open fens, she drew pictures on the stone walk before her. Words, song, and chalk flowed together, and a dream that was born in the mind was given reality by voice and hand.

  Her gift of song came from her Ni father; her talent for drawing was a skill she had developed in order to survive.

  Poco finished her song and looked down at her work. Of all those for whom she had sung, only Dhalvad had seen her pictures come to life, as they did for her. She looked up, wondering what was keeping him. He had promised to meet her in front of the Varda Inn well over an hour ago.

  Poco cleaned her hands on the rag lying across her knees as the crowd milled around her. The clink-clink of coins being dropped into her chalk bag was music she liked to hear. That night they would eat the best!

  Poco looked at the men and women who had been drawn to watch her work. The crowds in Port Sulta were larger than those she had known in Port Bhalvar, but perhaps that was because chalk artists were rare in that part of the Enzaar Sea.

  Poco and her companions had been in Port Sulta three weeks, camping on the outskirts of the city. But Poco knew that soon they would have to move on. The Sarissa were in the process of enlarging their empire, and, according to rumor, Port Sulta stood next in line. If the Sarissa overran Letsia, Dhalvad would be in danger again. The question was, where were they to go? Was any civilized place safe from the Sarissa?

  Someone asked her to sing again. She flipped her long, black hair back off her shoulders and nodded.

  Suddenly the crowd parted and a tall, gray-furred derkat stepped into view. He moved with the easy grace natural to his kind.

  Poco swallowed a smile as the humans moved out of his way. Ssaal-lr was well aware of the reaction to his presence. His growl of annoyance only made everyone move back a little faster.

  “No more songs today, folks,” Poco announced. “Thank you for your time. Come back tomorrow if you will.”

  As the crowd began to disperse, the derkat crouched in front of Poco and coughed a greeting, his tufted ears forward, his large yellow eyes alert. His breath carried the tangy smell of jinsa bean.

  Poco leaned forward and imitated the coughing sound, then signed with her hands. “You are late, Screech. Where is Dhal?”

  “Docks,” he signed.

  “Trouble?” she said aloud.

  “No.”

  “He hasn’t been healing again has he?”

  “No. He has found another Green One.”

  “Where?”

  “Lower market. Dhal says to come.”

  Poco nodded and started to gather her chalks.

  Ssaal-lr stood and looked up and down the tree-shaded street. While he waited, he scratched at his blunt nose, which was all but lost behind the two overlapping layers of light and dark gray fur surrounding his eyes.

  Finally, Poco handed Ssaal-lr her pouch of chalks. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Ssaal-lr took the pouch with his long, prehensile tail and hung it over his left shoulder. With both hands free, he led the way down the street.

  “Screech, did you see the Green One yourself?” she asked.

  Ssaal-lr clenched his left hand into a fist, furred fingers down and in, signing yes.

  “Any chance he may be half-blood?”

  “No.”

  They had located thus far seven half-bloods, most of them trying to hide their Ni bloodlines. Half-blood herself, Poco was not ashamed of her Ni blood; she was, in fact, rather proud of it. But with her dark hair and light blue eyes, she could easily pass for full-blood Sarissa, so she had never had to hide herself in order to survive. Years ago, when the Sarissa had made war on the Ni-lach, it had been death to be labeled a Green One. The disappearance of the Ni-lach from the Enzaar Sea territories was total. But for a handful of half-bloods like Poco, the only Ni left to trouble the Sarissa was Dhalvad sar Har-adan, her lover.

  Dhalvad had lived twenty-six years knowing nothing of his heritage; but the discovery of his healing powers by the authorities in Annaroth had forced him to flee with his foster father, Haradan sar Nath. He had learned then what it meant to be Ni-lach, and had dreamed ever since of finding his own people.

  Poco brought her attention back to Screech, who was signing to her. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” she answered. “Just thinking. Tell me about the Ni that Dhal has found.”

  “He is full-blood; green hair, ice eyes. He belongs to a fisherman. Dhal offers to buy him but needs money.”

  “The Ni is a slave?”

  “Yes. Fisherman wants a high price for him.”

  “How much?”

  Ssaal-lr opened and closed his four-fingered hand five times.

  Poco thought about the meal she had planned for them that night and shrugged. She decided that she wanted a look at this Ni before they did any buying; twenty marks was a lot of money. They did, of course, have a few pieces of Ni jewelry left to trade, but they were all loathe to part with them.

  Unconsciously, Poco touched the carved, wooden pendant hanging from her neck. She knew she would go hungry before giving it up. She believed that Screech felt much the same about the two gold armbands he had brought from the treasure cave in the ruins of the Ni-lach city, Val-hrodhur.

  Ssaal-lr cut his stride to match Poco’s; still she was feeling the pace by the time they neared the fishmarket. As she hurried after him, the smells of salt water, seaweed, and fish wafted around her, reminding her of her home in Port Bhalvar. Then Screech, taller than Poco by a head, spotted Dhalvad seated on the railing of a ramp leading down from one of the port inns.

  Poco smiled when she saw the small ball of fur leaning over Dhal’s lap, pointing to something down in the market. Gi-arobi was covered head to toe with short, rust-color fur, and all that could be seen of his face was a pair of golden eyes. The bond between Dhal and the olvaar was very similar to the one Poco and Screech shared.

  Dhal saw them and jumped down from his perch. Though small in stature, as were most Ni when compared to men, he was st
rong and quick, his movements betraying an inner energy that set him apart.

  Dhal kissed her as they met. “Sorry about our meeting, Poco.”

  Poco nodded. “You are forgiven. Screech tells me that you have found another Ni.”

  Dhal pointed to the docks. “He is over there. Come look.”

  Dhal’s green, shoulder-length hair and crystal eyes were shadowed by his cowled tunic, so no one took notice as he led Poco over to one of the fish stalls.

  “How much money do you have?” he asked her.

  “Thirteen marks and some smaller coins. You?”

  “Three. The man wants twenty.”

  As they approached the selling stall, the fisherman greeted Dhal with a grin. “Back again?”

  “Yes. I would like to see the Ni again, if you are agreeable.”

  The man turned and glanced behind him. Poco followed the direction of his gaze and saw a bundle of cloth on the ground. Sticking out of the bundle she could see a head and a pair of thin arms; the arms were wrapped around a pair of legs which were tucked up against the body.

  “He is sleeping right now,” the man said. “We were fishing until late morning. It takes a lot out of him.”

  “Can we see him?” Dhal asked again. “It won’t take long.”

  “Still interested in buying him?”

  “Perhaps, but first I want my friend to see him.”

  The man looked at Poco and nodded, then he glanced at Screech and Gi-arobi. A puzzled expression touched his face. “What are you planning to do with the Ni? Start a zoo?”

  “Zoo?” Dhal echoed.

  The man indicated Screech and Gi. “Looks like you already have a good start.”

  “They are our friends, fisherman,” Poco said firmly.

  The man shrugged. “If you say so. Well, you can look at him, but don’t scare him. I told you before, he is simple and he frightens easily.”

  “I remember,” Dhal said, as he stepped past the fisherman.

  Poco squatted beside Dhal as he touched the Ni on the shoulder. For a moment the Ni did not respond, then slowly his head lifted. His green hair was long and tangled and looked as if it had not been combed in months.

  “Avto,” Poco said softly, greeting him in the Ni tongue. “What is your name?”

  “He won’t answer, Poco.” Dhal pulled a tangled lock of hair away from the Ni’s forehead. A visible scar ran from the right temple well back into the hair.

  Poco took only a moment to see past the beauty of the Ni’s eyes and become aware of the emptiness there. “How long has he been like this?” she asked the fisherman.

  “I have had him five years now,” the man answered. “Before that he belonged to a man in Janchee.”

  “Do you know what happened to him?” she asked.

  “No, but from the scar on his head, I would say he was wounded back when the Sarissa were hunting the Green Ones, fifteen, twenty years ago.”

  “Does he have a name?”

  “No, miss, not really. The man I bought him from called him Taav. He answers to it after a fashion.”

  “You told me he helped you catch fish,” Dhal said. “How do you get him to work for you if he doesn’t even know his own name?”

  “Fishing comes natural to his kind; so does eating. When he gets hungry, he fishes real well… so I keep him hungry most of the time. If you are going to use him to fish, you will have to make sure he doesn’t gorge when you aren’t looking. You will also have to keep his neck collar and line on when he is in the water or you will lose him. He—”

  “Thank you,” Dhal said, standing. “But we have other plans for him.” He glanced down at the Ni. “How much do you want for him?”

  “I told you before,” the man replied. “Twenty marks.”

  “Too much for damaged goods,” Dhal said. “We can offer you ten.”

  The fisherman shook his head. “He earns me that much in three weeks.”

  Poco stood and took Dhal’s arm, pulling him away from the stall. “Let’s talk a few minutes, Dhal.”

  When they were alone, Poco turned and looked at Dhal. His face was still and unreadable. Since leaving Val-hrohur in the Mountains of the Lost, he had become very adept at hiding his emotions. Poco wasn’t sure she liked the changes taking place in him. The shy and innocent wilder with whom she had fallen in love was quickly becoming a stranger to her, driven by his need to find others of his kind.

  “Dhal, what are you thinking?”

  “I want him,” he answered.

  “Why? What are you going to do with him?”

  “Help him.”

  “You mean heal him?”

  Dhal nodded.

  “From what the man said, he was injured a long time ago. Do you think your healing powers can make any difference now?”

  “I healed Efan’s spine and his injury was well over two years old.”

  “Paralyzed limbs are one thing, Dhal, but a brain— that may be a little more than even you can handle.”

  “I know, but I want to try.”

  “Because he may know something about a Ni-lach sanctuary?”

  “That is part of it,” he answered. “But I also want to help him because he is Ni. I cannot just pass him by without trying to do something for him. Look at him, Poco! He is being starved to death!”

  “I can see, Dhal, and I know what you are feeling,” Poco said, trying to calm him. “But what if you do buy him free and we take him with us? What if you try to heal him and it doesn’t work? Have you considered what will happen to him then? You know the kind of life we have been living these past few months, and you know how good the chances are of the Sarissa moving in on the Letsians any time now. If that happens, we will have to get out of here and get out fast! There won’t be time to care for someone who is unable to think for himself. He might just be better off here with the fisherman.”

  “Better off?” Dhal shook his head. “No, I think not!”

  “He would be alive.”

  “Then he is better dead!”

  Poco realized that Dhal was deadly serious about the Ni; either he would heal him, or he would see him dead. She also knew that things were never that simple; that between the saying and the doing stood many other choices. But Dhal was not in any mood for arguments.

  “All right, Dhal,” she said. “Your way. But first we will have to get the fisherman to trade. We have only sixteen marks between us.”

  “If he won’t come down on his price, I’ll trade him one of the Ni brooches I still have.”

  “Wait, Dhal. Give me a chance to talk to the man first. I think we can deal with him.”

  Chapter 2

  POCO SAT QUIETLY WATCHING SCREECH FEED THE NI. Keeping a steadying hand on one thin shoulder, the derkat placed bits of food to Taav’s lips. Within seconds the food was chewed and swallowed. Taav had the appearance of an abandoned child, skeletal from starvation, his face devoid of emotion. Completely oblivious to his surroundings, he showed no interest in anything but the food being offered him.

  Poco silently cursed the merchant who had owned Taav. She could not understand how anyone could so misuse another person. In the morning she would have to return to Port Sulta to see about trading another piece of Ni jewelry. For twelve marks down and twelve payable within three days, the fisherman had consented finally to sell the Ni. Looking at Taav, Poco still wasn’t sure who had made the better bargain.

  Dhal touched Ssaal-lr’s shoulder. “No more food for him now, Screech. We don’t want to make him sick.”

  Screech signed agreement and moved out of the way, allowing Dhal to take his place beside the Ni.

  Poco looked down as Gi-arobi stirred in her lap. “Dhal heal now?” Gi asked.

  “I don’t know, Gi,” she said, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb Dhal. “Do you think he can?”

  Gi patted her arm. “Dhal knowing what he does.”

  I hope, she thought. She settled back against the trunk of a young aban tree and pulled her blanket c
loser around her shoulders. The air was cool with the feel of rain. The cold season was near its end and soon the warm spring rains would arrive, making travel and outdoor living something to avoid.

  Sheltered in a dense copse of trees, their camp was reasonably secure from any night-wandering draak, the large reptiles abundant in that land. But draak were not the only threat to someone living outside the manmade stockades that surrounded all villages and cities; one had to be alert for gensvolf and venom-shooting feeders, night creatures which mesmerized their victims with dancing lights. To be on the safe side, Screech had tied climbing vines to the branches above, giving them all easy escape routes.

  Poco turned her attention back to Dhal, who sat quietly stroking Taav’s shoulders, arms, and legs. She realized that he was looking for some kind of a response from the Ni; but it did not look as if Taav was about to cooperate.

  Dhal lifted Taav’s face so he could look into the Ni’s eyes. For long moments those twin pairs of crystal gazed at each other, then suddenly Taav pulled from Dhal’s hold and ducked away, scrambling on hands and knees toward a nearby clump of bushes.

  Dhal went after Taav, but Screech was faster. The long-bodied derkat lunged from a reclining position and threw himself in front of Taav, catching the Ni around the shoulders and rolling over with him.

  “Be careful, Screech,” Dhal cried. “Don’t hurt him!”

  Dhal went to aid the derkat and between the two of them they got Taav back near the fire. “Sit down, Screech,” Dhal said. “And hold onto him.”

  Screech wrapped his strong arms around Taav’s chest and arms, then kicked Taav’s feet out from under him and sat down. While Screech held the Ni as still as possible, Dhal crouched in front of them, his hands going to Taav’s forehead.

  “What are you going to do, Dhal?” Poco asked, alert and ready to help.

  “Make him sleep,” Dhal answered.

  Poco could not see Taav’s face, but only a moment or two passed before he stopped struggling. When Dhal leaned back, she could see the Ni resting quietly in Screech’s arms.

  Poco came to stand behind Dhal. Her hand dropped gently to the top of his head. “What happened?”