The Silent City

Chapter Eighty-Three

Eriki’yu almost fell into the bathroom. John caught him, but Eriki’yu recoiled from his touch. A huge new bruise covered the left side of Eriki’yu’s face.

"What happened to you?" John asked.

"I fell on the stairs." Eriki’yu bowed his head so that his hair hung over his face. "Arren needs you to come to the chapel grounds right away."

"I don’t have my coat," John said.

Eriki’yu grabbed John. His thin, clammy fingers dug into John’s forearm. "Please, you have to come now."

"All right. All right." John started down the hall. Eriki’yu trailed behind him.

"We’ll get there faster if we take a rat crack to the black door," Eriki’yu told him.

"I’m not sure where that – "

"Turn left here." Eriki’yu pointed to a narrow alley that ran between two solid walls of granite. It looked more ragged and unfinished than most of the carved tunnels in the Warren. John stepped in. His shoulders brushed the walls on either side of him. The space opened slightly as John moved farther in. After a few paces the green light of the streetlamps faded to darkness.

"Are you sure this leads somewhere?" John asked.

"I’m sure," Eriki’yu said firmly. "I know all the rat cracks in the Warren. This one will take us straight to the black door. The stairs there come up in the orchard right behind the chapel."

"Straight ahead it is then."

"Please hurry," Eriki’yu murmured.

John quickened his pace. He heard Eriki’yu’s bare feet slapping against the granite as the boy ran to keep up with him.

"So, what does Arren need me for?" John asked.

"I don’t know. He just said it was an emergency." Eriki’yu’s voice trembled slightly.

John considered what this emergency might be and why Arren would need him of all people. He would have thought that Arren would still be instructing the girls in the practice hall. A terrible feeling washed through John. He didn’t think Arren was anywhere near the chapel right now.

"Why does Arren need me to meet him behind the chapel?"

"I don’t know," Eriki’yu said quickly. "Please just go. Please."

"Who hit you in the face?"

"I told you. I tripped on the stairs. I do it all the time."

"Yeah, I noticed you were pretty beaten up in combat practice." John stopped and Eriki’yu slammed into his back.

"Please keep going." Eriki’yu pushed against John’s back. "He’ll kill me if you don’t show up."

"Who will?"

"Arren." Eriki’yu’s thin voice rose slightly. "He really needs to see you."

"Look," John said, "I’m not an idiot. I just left Arren a few minutes ago in the practice hall. I know he isn’t waiting for me in the orchard behind the chapel. So, who is?"

John felt Eriki’yu’s cold hand slip off his back. Then he heard the soft thump of the boy dropping down to the stone floor. John negotiated the awkward confines of the narrow tunnel to turn and crouch down beside Eriki’yu. The boy pulled his legs up close to his chest. He hid his face down against his knees. John thought from the sound of the boy’s breathing that Eriki’yu might be crying, but he wasn’t sure.

"If you don’t show up," Eriki’yu whispered, "Lyyn is going to kill me. He really will."

"I won’t let Lyyn kill you."

"How are you going to stop him?" Eriki’yu demanded. "You don’t even live in the common quarters. You get to stay with Ji and her students."

The pragmatism of Eriki’yu’s response shamed John. Eriki’yu’s problem was real and – judging from the beaten state of his body – critical. Confronted with it, John had given him a groundless assurance, more to quiet him than to offer any real solution.

"Isn’t there someone who looks after you? Someone who can deal with Lyyn?" John asked.

Eriki’yu shook his head. "The Payshmura burned my sister two years ago. Lyyn’s my guardian now."

"He’s your guardian?"

Eriki’yu nodded. "My sister ran away with him to join the Fai’daum. I followed her. But now she’s dead and Lyyn hates me. He says I’m a weakling."

"Can you go back home?" John asked.

Eriki’yu shook his head. He made a soft, choking noise and John realized that he really was crying. The disgust John had previously felt for Lyyn compressed into hatred. Lyyn was the one who should have been protecting Eriki’yu. Instead he beat the boy and then taunted him for not being able to defend himself.

"All right," John said. "I’ll go meet Lyyn – "

"Don’t." Eriki’yu suddenly gripped John’s hand. "He’ll kill you. He hates you more than he hates me."

"Lyyn isn’t going to kill me," John said. "He’ll be lucky if I don’t kill him."

"No, he has two friends with him," Eriki’yu whispered. "They’re going to jump you and make you beg for your life. They’ll do it too. Lyyn’s not afraid of anybody."

John knew that wasn’t true. Lyyn feared the authorities within the Warren. Otherwise he would have acted like Dayyid had in Rathal’pesha. He would have just strode out onto the training grounds and beaten whomever he felt deserved the pain. Lyyn needed to be much more secretive. He hid in an orchard and sent Eriki’yu to lure John to him.

"Lyyn’s not as fearless as he wants you to think. And he’s not as strong either." John reached out and gently touched Eriki’yu’s shoulder. Eriki’yu lifted his head.

"What are you going to do?" Eriki’yu asked. He sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve.

"I’m going to go deal with Lyyn." John straightened. "But I want you to go and get Ji. Tell her what’s happened and where I am."

"The witch?"

Even in the darkness John could see the whites of Eriki’yu’s wide eyes.

"She won’t do anything to you. Just tell her what’s happened," John said firmly.

Eriki’yu stood up. He reached out and very tentatively touched John’s hand. He moved his fingers against John’s palm, making the symbol for safety and blessing. Then he turned and ran back the way they had come.

John continued down the rat crack.

He knew the intelligent thing to do would be to go back with Eriki’yu and complain to Ji.

But there was a deep anger in John. It burned through his thoughts like a fever, fuzing Lyyn with the memories of other men: the boys who had tormented Bill all through high school, calling him a faggot and hounding him mercilessly through gym classes. Then he remembered the thick beard and heavy build of Commander Tashtu, the man who had tried to rape Laurie and had murdered Bill.

John reached the black door quickly. It opened into a small storm cellar. Big casks of fruit gave off the sharp scent of fermentation. Smooth clay jars lined the shelves.

He climbed the narrow stairs up to the frigid open air. Snow still covered the ground. Icicles hung from the bare branches of the surrounding trees. The cold brought John back to his senses somewhat. It was winter outside the Warren and he wasn’t even wearing a shirt.

Then he saw Lyyn standing between two gnarled trees. His thick brown jacket hung open but his hands were hidden in the pockets.

"Didn’t your girlfriend come with you?" Lyyn asked.

John knew that Lyyn meant Eriki’yu. He didn’t respond. Instead he concentrated on his surroundings. If Lyyn was standing in front of him, then Lyyn’s two friends were probably somewhere behind him. John heard the soft crunch of snow to his left. He glanced to the nearest tree and noticed the weird shape of its shadow.

John charged the man behind the tree. Lyyn started after John, but he wasn’t fast enough. John caught hold of the man behind the tree, punched him once, hard, and then hurled him into Lyyn. The two of them crumpled into the snow.

Suddenly John felt a rough cord bite into his neck. The man behind John twisted the rope tighter around his throat. John brought his hands up to the rope and focused his will against its fibrous structure. It burned and split apart under his fingers.

John spun and grabbed the man behind him by the front of his bulky coat. He stared at John in horror. John hefted him off his feet, slammed him into a tree trunk, and then threw him to the ground like a rag doll. The man groaned when he hit the snow.

"Stay down," John growled and the man lay still.

John turned back. Lyyn and his other friend had regained their feet. John strode towards them. The friend bolted back towards the dark shadow of the chapel. John let him go. It was Lyyn he wanted.

"You think I’m scared of you?" Lyyn dug his hand into his jacket pocket. He found something and smiled. "I’m not. Because I know what you are, Jahn. You’re an animal. A filthy, twisted, boy-fucking animal."

John scowled at Lyyn. Then a movement behind Lyyn caught John’s attention. Three dark figures were approaching from the direction of the chapel. John strained to make out their features. They were the priests: Lam, Daru, and Giryyn.

"Don’t pretend like you can’t even fucking see me!" Lyyn shouted.

John’s attention snapped back to Lyyn in time to see him raise a pistol. John stared at the gun. Firearms were far too expensive for the Fai’daum to distribute to tradesmen like Lyyn. He had to have stolen it from the armory.

"Now who’s scared!" Lyyn demanded. He grinned at John. "Get down on your knees, dog. You’re going to beg me for your filthy, worthless life."

John could see the three priests’ faces clearly now. He wondered if they could see the pistol in Lyyn’s hands.

"On your knees, you bag of shit!" Lyyn shouted.

"No," John replied calmly.

"You think I won’t do it?" Lyyn pulled back the hammer of the pistol. John knew he would open fire. He could see the determination in Lyyn’s face. Still, John couldn’t bring himself to kneel before the man. He stood his ground, staring directly at Lyyn. He wondered if he could burn Lyyn the way he had burned the rope. He lifted his hand.

Suddenly the air between them seemed to shudder. An instant later Ravishan burst out from nowhere. Lyyn staggered back. He fired his pistol, but the shot went wide. Ravishan punched two fingers into Lyyn’s neck. Blood spewed up from Lyyn’s throat. Lyyn collapsed into the snow. Steam rose from his blood as it spread across the snow.

Ravishan quickly retreated to John’s side. Only a yard ahead of them the three priests stood staring.