Why The Sister Moons Swallowed Rage

2. The Lomaz Frost-coat

2. The Lomaz Frost-coatWith urgency, Bray gripped the gate wire next to Sabienn and implored to the woman. “Ma’am, please. We need to show you something.”

The woman before them was done with convincing. She turned and shouted again, “Police!”

From his pocket Bray retrieved the photo of the girl and Sabienn hit the photo with the light of his torch. “Ma’am, please,” called Bray. “Look at this.”

The woman turned to them and squinted her eyes to see what was held. When she realized what was in the photo, Sabienn watched her face recoil in disgust. “You’ve been spying,” she said. “You weird little creep.” She turned again. “Police!”

“This photo,” called Bray, “is thirty years old. It was taken from a Captain. He was killed in the Bol War.”

Before them the woman’s resistance seemed to soften a little as Bray continued, “There’s a note with it.” He produced the paper of soft words from a young girl and waved it for her to see.

“Anyone can make a letter,” said the woman.

“Signed Troot,” said Bray holding the paper.

There was an audible gasp from the woman. As she came in closer, the words were illuminated for her perusal. “Where’d you get this?” she said.

“From the pockets of the man who killed him,” said Sabienn. He had a clear memory of the vision he had of Sergeant Oololo killing the Turr Captain and remembered the moment the four of them dug up Oololo’s buried body from the shooting pits.

“I’ll ask you one more time,” said the woman now up in Sabienn’s face. “Where did you get this?”

Sabienn looked into the eyes of the woman. They were tender brown eyes with laugh wrinkles but she was not to be trifled with. “I wouldn’t believe us either,” he said. “But everything we said is true.”

“Ma’am,” said Bray bringing the paper up to read. “These words are at the bottom. “Lit a candle. Whole family. Theatre closed. Kept people out on Crate Street. All Port Leer up in arms. You know my sister.” Bray paused briefly to note the police were making quick time up the alley towards them. He continued, “Shake had another litter. More cats, no food, all happy. Changed hinges. Door opens wider. Come home.” Does that make any sense?”

The words still ringing in the air left the woman dumb-struck. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open as she faced the boys.

The first policeman arrived puffing and trying to keep his cap in place. “You called?” he said reaching the woman’s side to secure her from harm. His eyes moved to the occupants of the cage and in the dim light of the torch he made out the features of Bray. “Oh.” He turned to the woman. “Looks like you’ve done our work for us.”

Sheepishly the woman looked to the ground and cleared her throat. “There’s been a mistake,” she said quietly.

“I caught them, officer,” said the young girl excitedly. “I got them for you.”

“Well good for you,” said the second officer, patting the girl on the head.

At that moment, a shot was fired from behind the officers. The bullet struck within the enclosure Sabienn was standing in and split a cardboard box above his head. A can of fruit must have been split as a spatter of something thick and liquid hit him in the back of the head.

The reaction was immediate. The officers dropped to the ground to take cover. The woman grabbed her girl and pulled her to the side of the alley and fell on top of her. It left the four men in the cage to crouch with nowhere to hide and no shield to save them. Sabienn could see they were like fish in a barrel waiting to be skewered.

Another shot rang out. Sabienn saw the flash of the barrel at the street end of the alley. The bullet struck again above his head. This time a metal on metal clang as it hit the sturdy shelving.

“This guy’s a terrible shot,” said Sabienn.

“You hoping for improvement?” said Stork.

“Wish I had a rifle,” said Deep.

“You and me both,” said Sabienn and turned to the woman shaking on top of her daughter. “Let us out.” The woman was in her own zone of abject shock. “Hey,” called Sabienn again.

At the side Bray found boxes which he quickly pulled to stack before them. He was mechanical in his actions and Sabienn watched hopelessly as a protective barrier of toilet paper got built between them and the prospect of a hard metal death.

Another bullet hit the metal shelf, this time closer to their heads.

They all reacted by dropping closer to the ground. “Better,” shouted Stork, as if not to wound their assailant’s self-esteem.

One of the Turr police officers then found his sidearm. Sabienn watched the man roll over on his paunch, take aim at a harmless bin and shoot its lid off.

It had the effect of a massive clang that made the shooting stop. In the distance at the alley mouth, the shadows of two figures retreated to the road. The second officer looked to the safety of the woman before being summoned by the other to make cautious tracks toward the alley mouth.

The woman roused and spirited her weeping daughter to the doorway of her premises. The door slammed and the alley was silent.

“Hey,” cried Sabienn. He looked towards his fellow three captives who were just as stunned as he was.

“Secret Police,” said Deep quietly looking toward Sabienn. The recipient of Deep’s glowering look was expecting another Sharpen up. But the big man just turned and looked to the brick wall.

All of a sudden, the theatre door opened again and the woman reappeared. Sabienn watched her shocked face half in shadow. With heavy breathing and quick glances, she rattled a chain of keys and walked quickly to the cage. The lock clanked open. She then retreated quickly to the safety of her theatre and the door closed. All was quiet again.

“Thanks,” said Stork to his friends, watching where the woman had gone. “It was nice chatting.”

Sabienn worked the gate open and with the others following went to work the door where the woman disappeared. It was locked.

“Let’s go,” said Stork. “I’m sick of it.”

“We need to move,” said Deep.

“I still have this,” said Bray, holding the thirty year old photo.

“Someone’s coming,” said Sabienn. The men pressed against the wall. They looked at a figure moving towards them along the alley. It was a diminutive figure fully cloaked carrying something in both hands. From the dim light, Sabienn made out that it was the woman’s daughter. And she was carrying a big white cat.

When she met them, she was no nonsense. “Everyone, please,” she said. “Hands out.”

They looked at each other but obliged. She was configuring the cat for them to pat it. Each man took turns to extend their hand to the large feline’s coat. Sabienn rubbed the cat’s neck, followed by Deep then Bray. When Stork stretched his hand out, the cat in a majestic gesture jabbed its paw out for the hand to go no further.

“Thank you,” said the girl. “All of you follow.” She turned to Stork. “Except him.”

The friends looked at one another. “Are we miffed?” whispered Sabienn to the man rejected by a cat.

“Suits me,” said Stork. “I’ll keep watch.” He shook his head. “Cats.”

The three chosen ones followed the girl back through the front of the premises. She led them through a door which opened to the glow of a myriad of lit candles. They entered the room and saw a pathway through the burning.

“Please,” said the girl. “Follow me.” She urged them to let her take the lead through the well-lit path. She still held the big cat which appeared asleep and Sabienn could see the girl’s features were clear and strikingly pretty. “We need to burn the bad luck off you,” she added and walked towards another door.

As he passed through, Sabienn looked around and saw pictures interspersed within the candles. They were framed photos of Turr people in portrait. Many sat stoically staring at some camera with their resplendent ears on display. As his eyes made a quick search, he saw a man whom he recognized through his vision. It was the Turr Captain in full uniform whom he had seen be killed by Sergeant Oololo at Second Best Hill. The face within the photo was smiling toward the side and seemingly content with his world.

The door opened and as they entered, Sabienn saw the girl’s mother seated and weeping softly into her hands. She looked up in shock at the presence of the intruders.

“What’re you doing?” the mother cried out to her daughter. “No, Lim. No. They shouldn’t be here.”

“It’s OK, Mama,” said the young girl with wisdom. “It’s like what you said about the air. When the hot wall meets the cold wall, the rain must fall. You have the sadness. I’m bringing the wall. They’ve been chosen.” The young girl lifted the cat. “Spill likes them.”

There was a tap on the door jamb to the rear of them. Sabienn turned to see a worried Stork. “Hey,” said Stork. “Police are back. Move.”

With a quick move, Lim placed Spill on the floor and moved to face Stork in the doorway. “Sir,” she said as she grabbed the door. “You’re not allowed.”

“What?” said Stork. But the door shut on his perplexed face and was then locked secure.

Sabienn looked to his friends and they looked back in concern. The police would be here in a minute and he knew they needed to move.

“Ma’am”, said Sabienn in his best Turr. “Why’re we here?”

“I don’t want you here,” said the woman.

Bray held the photo from his Oololo package and Lim noticed it. “That’s me,” she said.

“No,” said Sabienn dismissively. “It’s someone named Troot.”

“It’s me,” repeated Lim without excitement. “Aunty Troot is sick. She’s out in the Handle.”

“Who are you?” called the woman.

“We’re businessmen,” said Sabienn looking back to the closed door.

“Save your lies,” said the woman without joy.

Lim pointed once again to the photo. “That is me.”

“I’ll hand you to the police,” said the woman then pointed to the photo. “Or tell me where you got this.”

Sabienn glanced to Bray then spoke quietly. “I’ll tell you,” he said. “But first you have to know about us. We’re not businessmen. We’re on the run. We left Hayddland and people have been trying to kill us. Those people in the alley. Probably Secret Police. Each of our mothers were native. That’s why we have wings.”

“I have eyes,” she said. Sabienn saw her eyes move to survey their entrapped appendages making shapes under the backs of their cloaks.

“We share the same father,” said Sabienn indicating his two friends. “The four of us have his blood in our veins.”

“The Grand Inquisitor Profound,” added Bray.

There was an audible gasp from the woman. “Murrlock Hyde,” she said. “That sounds like a story.”

“It’s true, ma’am,” said Deep. “It’s about our blood.”

“I see,” she said. Sabienn could see that with every interjection he and his friends were offering, their faces were being closely studied by her. She appeared to know all the facial tells of someone being truthful. “Hyde wants you dead.”

“And I read, ma’am,” said Sabienn. “Meaning I can pick up an object and see visions.”

“I’m aware of reading,” she cut in impatiently.

“I saw the Captain’s death,” said Sabienn.

“My father,” said the woman.

“It was swift,” said Sabienn. “The killer took no joy. His name was Sergeant Oololo. And he was executed soon after. But we dug him up. These were taken from his back pocket. These are yours.” Sabienn indicated to Bray to pass the note and the photo on. The items were given and she stared at them in her hand. “Ma’am, please. We can’t be caught. We have a mission.”

“Which is?” she asked.

“We need to find a Blue Moon Monastery. It’s at Seahawk in the Province of Heer,” Sabienn said. “We seek a Blue Moon Bible for which I must take a read. We need to go?”

“Wait,” said the woman. “Are you..? With all these things.” She waved her hands around. “Are you here to see us die?” She looked intently upon her daughter.

Sabienn looked around. There was movement on the other side of the door.

“Ma’am,” said Sabienn calmly. “A week ago, I would have said I hated the Turrs. But last week I fell in love with one. Now you have no greater friend. We are not our country. Please. The back door.”

With a few quick steps and deft movements, the rear door opened but just. As Sabienn stood behind the woman and peered through the crack made, two or three armed officers were seen in the rear alley poring over objects and marks made in the previous attack.

The woman closed the door and confided in Sabienn. “Come with me.” They returned to the room and the woman flung back a rug covering the floor to reveal a trap door. “Call me Conny,” said the woman. “You must trust me. Stay under here.”

As the door flung back, the three men stepped down and availed themselves of its concealment. Sabienn could see this dark and damp area led to areas under the theatre’s stage. He breathed its musty air as it became dark with the closed door and the returned rug. There were splits in the floorboard that allowed shards of light and sound. It allowed enough light to see Deep and Bray’s faces and Sabienn could hear Conny’s voice above confiding in her daughter.

“Place Spill on the rug,” said Conny. “You must be quiet. Like when the bad men came. What did we say?”

“Quiet as the night,” said Lim.

“Quiet as the night,” repeated Conny.

A door knock came and the door to the room was quickly opened. Sabienn heard above him two or three sets of boots enter.

“Officer Payz?” enquired Conny.

The voice of one of the Turr officers boomed through the room above. “Madam Ozark. Now what happened out there?” The officer’s voice was authoritative but calm. “Where are those men?”

“What men?” said Conny innocently.

“No games, madam,” said Payz. “This is serious now. You unlocked the cage.”

“There’s a key within,” said Conny.

“But Mama,” said Lim. Sabienn heard her young voice above, bold and unapologetic. “You unlocked them.”

So much for “Quiet as the night”, thought Sabienn.

“Do tell,” said Payz. “Do you know how sick we are of coming here? Always the same reports of theft. And now this. Speak young child and the cat lives.”

Sabienn could hear the cat above them purring contentedly on the rug. If a bullet comes through, that’s not good, he thought. His friends also reacted with unease. Above was an extended silence that lasted what seemed like an eternity.

“No,” called Lim in dismay.

“Please,” said Conny. “The cat’s dying. We’re going to the Handle.” There was a pause. “Mr Payz, you’ll break this girl’s heart.”

“Who were those men?” asked Payz.

“Pilgrims,” said Conny. “That was what they said. One of the men was about to die. They needed to seek a Blue Moon Monastery. I told them their best bet was go to the Handle. See Brother Blade. He’d make a letter of introduction. You always need a letter.”

“And where were they heading?” said Payz.

“I don’t know,” said Conny.

“And those men?” said Payz. “The guns.”

“I don’t know,” said Conny uneasily.

“I’m up to here with your lies,” scoffed Payz. “I’m tired of this woman.” To Sabienn listening intently below the floor boards, Payz appeared to be addressing a subordinate. “Kill the cat. Use the knife. Ear to ear. Like with the bin man yesterday. Swift. You hear me, Reez?”

“What?” Sabienn heard the bewildered voice of a male he assumed to be Reez.

“You have your orders,” said Payz.

Sabienn gripped a rung on the ladder that brought them to hiding. I can’t bring distress on this girl, he thought. He looked to his friends showing his intent to ascend the ladder.

Then at that moment a blood curdling scream came from above. But it was male. “Aah! What’re you doing?” It was the voice of Payz. “You stabbed my hand.”

“I’m sorry,” said Reez.

“That’s terrible,” said Conny. “I’ll get a bandage. Hold your hand.” Conny scurried around on the floorboards above Sabienn.

“Quick,” said Payz. “You’re on report.”

“I’m sorry,” said Reez. “But that’s a Lomaz frost-coat. You’re not thinking right, sir. That’s five years bad luck.”

“I gave an order,” said Payz.

“You and I are passing, sir,” added Reez. “But that cat will inherit the planet.”

“I can’t feel it,” said Payz. “Reez, I took you under my wing.”

“I’m really sorry” called Reez. “Lady Bol had a cat. If people hear you killed a Lomaz, it’s not worth thinking.”

At that moment, Sabienn felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Deep pointing to Bray who had placed his hands on a torch. A door was illuminated with pin-point light at the side and the path was clear. Deep and Bray made swift steps to the access but Sabienn held a foot on the lowest rung of the ladder which suddenly broke free under his weight. Clunk!

“What’s that?” said Payz above them. “Pull back the rug.”

There was movement above Sabienn then a very loud hiss from a cat and then a pause.

“I’ll go the back way,” said Reez. “I’ll kill someone for you, sir. I know the doors here.”

Sabienn moved quietly toward the two friends and in the dim light made by the torch saw Deep staring daggers. I know, “Sharpen up”, thought Sabienn, sensing his brother’s disapproval. I’m the only one that can’t make mistakes. The three men moved quickly through the door and into the underbelly of the stage, moving past all sorts of costumes and props placed for “The Lit Fuse”.

Looking to the stairs ahead that led to the exit, Sabienn stopped in his tracks. “We’re not going to make it.”

“Of course we can,” said Deep, itching to keep moving.

“No, we won’t,” said Sabienn, looking around at the costumes. “Bray, what do you know about “The Lit Fuse”?”

“You want a review?” said Deep. “Move!”

“It’s famous,” replied Bray. “For the Turrs. Set round the Battle of Brood. Look!” Bray picked up a costume from the rack. It was a long black cloak with hood and he spread the back for them to view a prominent equals-sign “=” in white. “The cloak of the Guard of the Black Kno. They wandered the battle-field picking up the dead. See!” He pointed to the equals-sign. “All men are equal in death.”

Sabienn searched the rack with Bray. “There’s only two.” A plank was at their feet and Sabienn directed Bray. “Get on the board.” Bray complied and a Sabienn placed a nearby blanket over him. “Act dead. Deep get the back but put this on.” He passed a surgical mask for Deep and placed another on his own face. They then donned the cloaks and picked up Bray on the makeshift litter.

“Is it worth saying the Guard were disbanded a hundred years ago,” said Bray from under the blanket.

“You’re dead, remember?” said Sabienn. They found an access which led to the main auditorium now empty after the evening’s performance.

“Halt!” came a voice from the stage as they moved to the back of the theatre. “Who goes there?”

Sabienn stopped in his tracks and turned. On stage behind them were two aged actors in full traditional Turr battle uniform sharing a bottle of rice wine and the cooked carcass of some dead bird. “I said, who goes there?” said one.

The blanket flipped back and Bray delivered the most eloquent of Turr replies. “We are but a flock of birds in the night.”

“Very good,” said the actor dressed as a Captain. “But the dead man doesn’t talk. Guard One, you’re a disgrace to the theatre. I’ll speak with Roaz. You’ll never tread another board in this city again. You hear me?”

“Sorry, sir,” said Sabienn in his best Turr, continuing his travel up the theatre aisle. “That seems only fair.”

They broke through the auditorium doors and pushed their way into the theatre foyer. Sabienn passed by bemused patrons seated at tables drinking coffee, looking up to see the unusual performance art.

At the outer doors, Sabienn saw a police officer with a knife in his hand speaking animatedly with two other officers. Rather than veer his course, Sabienn led their funeral procession straight at him. “That’s him,” whispered Deep. “What’re you doing?”

“Fifty-fifty,” whispered Sabienn.

The man he presumed to be Reez saw him approach and started swinging the blade in his hand with menace. “You,” shouted Reez. “Lose the masks. Or I’ll run you through.” He emphasised with a vicious air thrust.

“Shut-up and listen to me!” called Sabienn to him, pushing right into the personal space of the police officer. “Two men, that stage, back there.” He directed with his head. “They’re up there eating a cat. Is this the type of thing you let in this city? I need to wash my hands. Where’s the street?”

Sabienn looked into the eyes of a stunned Reez. Without another word Sabienn pushed right past him and burst through the doors to spill on to the street. When they were past the wall of the theatre, they dropped the plank, lost the cloaks and masks and crossed to the other side of the road. They found seclusion behind the corner of a building just in time.

Looking back, Sabienn saw a very annoyed Reez with two men push out from the doors and look up and down the way of travel. “You go that way,” Reez barked. “You. You’re with me.”

“Hey, you.” Sabienn turned his head at the familiar voice. “You’re with me.”

Looking to where the voice came from, Sabienn saw Stork sitting in a sedan with a door open and beckoning his friends to enter. They piled in and secured themselves as Stork brought the battery to power and pulled quickly away.