46 - Mom, Come Now

A thin stone wall mandered up in front of Terry, between the ledge and ladder.  “Hey-‘milian!” Kyrus’s voice was full of lie, a comrade well-met tone. “High bench, no stench, huh?  What happened tah Bo?”

The young man, who hung from the ladder by one hand, and stood on one foot so he could peer over the rock wall that Kyrus had thrown up, tapped his knife against it.  It obviously kept him from climbing onto their ledge. Terry had the odd idea that they'd ruined his entrance.  It didn't make him any less frightened.  He eased up to his feet and pressed back hard against the city column.  The scarred young man in ragged breeches and pale-bleached sarband didn't pay him any attention, his eyes locked on Kyrus.

“Chillin’. Ye kin call me Bo now,” he said, edge of his veil fluttering and fringed.

“See yah, know yah, Ee-milian.  You loaf a bread ‘im?”

Terry could just see Emilian’s cheeks, flushed with rage. Seamed with knife scars.  “Nah.  Nasty of tha, but then ye nasty fasty all ‘round, worm-shit, fakin bait.”

“Ye same oyuk slime as always, Emilian,” Kyrus said, standing up slowly, beginning to drop the Basin cant, drawing on the language he’d paid so much to learn, his hand on the sword-hilt at his belt.  Terence looked around wildly.  There was no way off this ledge except the ladder and while Emilian had been talking to Kyrus other boys had come down the ladder and were spread out on the ledges to either side above, like some strange fringe of audience. From this height a metre of water wouldn't stop a jump.

*Shall I come fetch you?* Mom asked.

*Yes please,* Terry said.  *I think you should be quick but not destructive…*

*Acknowledged.*

“Whatchoo mean, Dirt? Worm-boy?”

“I’m not going to accept any part of you in my body, you endarkened moron.  Just like last time when you said you were going to cut me up and fak me sick, dead or 'live.” He eased around Terry, changing places with him on the ledge, staring at Emilian over his wall.

Emilian laughed and spat on the stone, though careful not to foul the water below.  “Ye deserved all I’d give ye.”

“How long did it take you to recover when I cut you?  A full month?”

The boys watching drew in their breaths, hissing.  “I never b’lieved the LIN fairy story borey…" Emilian spat. "Ye’re no Bo-heir, nuthin’. Don' b'lieve yeh got a name same game lame. Not a man, got no name, all-ah same… come outen yer hidey holey open yer boley draculi holey, Dirt!”

Terence didn’t need Agador’s calm translation.  He swallowed hard and inquired of Mom where she was, just as Kyrus moved.

He reached straight through the shielding stone, grabbed the knife that Emilian had been tapping against it, somehow it didn't cut his fingers. Somehow he'd hardened his grip. He grabbed and pulled Emilian's arm straight through the stone, till his cheek smacked hard into the rock.  All Terry could see was his arm held straight and tight in the suddenly hardened rock. “OW OW OW, FAKIN’ DRACULI FAK…" Kyrus plucked the knife out of his hand and put it in his belt.

"OW DRACULYU PIECE OF ENDARKENED WORMSHIT..." He wiggled and struggled and squealed and then suddenly went quiet when a voice from up above plaintively called “Ladder no madder, Bo.  We’re muck.”

Terry could hear Emilian’s harsh breathing echoing all around them, though he couldn't see any more of him than his arm stuck in the rock.  Kyrus dropped his hand away from the sword hilt and drew a deep breath.

“My name is Kyrus Talain, the youngest of the line, Emilian, no name. Bo of the Bait Muck Rats.  You and these Rats are going to be speaking to the Rasheem.  I’m siwion and kraghanz. I am not, never was, and will never be ‘Dirt’ as you tried to name me.”

That was when Mom came scrambling up over the lip of the Basin and bounded over to the central core-rock in one long, flattened out jump.