Catastrophe in the Firesnake

by Rayner Ye

  Crowleen, the crow woman, lay on her straw bundle in her wooden treehouse, reflecting on the news. She wouldn’t have heard if she hadn’t gone to market to buy seeds. That was the place to learn the latest—Bamdar off to a lunar slammer and the volcanic eruption in Kuanja’s Firesnake.

  She sat up, picked mud off her talon, and threw it out the window. Although her mind told her Aedre hadn’t opened the portal, her bones told her otherwise.

  However long it had been since Crowleen, or anyone else had travelled in time, the same feeling would haunt her bones—like rattling. The more keys she had, the stronger her bones rattled when someone crossed a portal. Right now, her bones rattled like rain sticks.

  Someone had opened a time portal, and it wasn’t a coincidence that Aedre had come begging Crowleen for the key’s whereabouts before it was opened.

  She grimaced. Roobish had seemed smarter than her younger-self. Aedre must’ve been pretty daft to go all the way to Eeporyo to ask Crowleen for the whereabouts of the key. She could’ve asked the river and rain controller instead. Would’ve gone straight to the garden altar if she’d done that. Perhaps she’d eventually figured it out.

  That wasn’t the only news that’d been all over market. Sharr Shuvuu would hand her royal title over to her squirt of a brother, Shannis, that very night. If Crowleen moped about here any longer, she’d miss the whole deal. She jumped to her feet, chucked her sheath of throwing daggers over her shoulder and adjusted it on her chest, then took flight from the porch.

  As the sun peaked in the sky, she flew over the forest and desert, stopping now and then to catch her breath, eat animals, and drink from an oasis and a couple of streams. By the time she reached the edge of the red plateau, the sun grew heavy above the western ocean.

  In the distance, the impact crater looked like a fat, ugly pockmark on smooth red skin. She focused on that blemish and continued north as the sun sank behind her. It looked as though a plague of ants had gathered to drink from a drop of sweet syrup splattered onto the plateau. In reality, spectators had come from hundreds of miles around to watch the handover ceremony.

  The wind carried wood fire smoke and rumbling drum beats as she glided around and down, then landed on the rim of the crater behind a mass of onlookers. She was six-foot-tall, but couldn’t see over their heads.

  Only royalty and the clay tribe could set foot inside the crater for the ceremony. She clambered to the sky again, even though her wings protested.

  Couldn’t hear sod all from up here, but her sharp vision didn’t miss a thing—clay people prancing all over the place in loincloths, then forming a circle around the chief and his guests—the Bubo King and his son and gal. Their human Mam too. The owl family stood in line, and the chief, with his feathered headdress, talked to each in turn.

  Crowleen dived towards the homes in the shadows of the crater’s southern rim. She perched on one of the bobbled dwellings moulded with clay.

  The chief’s voice echoed around the crater, amplified by a nifty Mayleedian device. “Sharr Shuvuu. Before you leave us to enter your art scholarship, I’d like to reward you for steering Aedre—your spirit in need, in the right direction and for saving Eeporyo’s future.”

  The onlookers cheered above the rim, but their shouts were mostly lost to the Air God.

  “Bamdar won’t enslave Eeporyovians, because Aedre handed him to the Mayleedian Police. Aedre couldn’t have done it without Sharr Shuvuu’s help. But sadly for us, our Bubo Queen will follow a life of art. So, we are here to pass the honour of Bubo monarch to Shannis, the Bubo King’s only son.”

  Cheers dispersed into the darkening sky once more. A cold chill swept around the crater, picking up small twisters of dust on its course.

  “From this day on, Shannis will take over his sister’s good work, and Sharr Shuvuu’s name will never be forgotten—inscribed in our most sacred books, undisclosed from the rest of Plan8.”

  Crowleen gave a stiff smile and took to the sky. She’d saved Eeporyo from the Satsang’s rule a million and three thousand years ago, but none of that had been encrypted in any flippin’ book. What reward had the clay people ever given her apart from isolation?

  She darted towards the southern edge of the plateau, mumbling to herself. She hated people, let alone talking to them. But she had to ask for Sharr Shuvuu’s help.

  Two half moons overhead cast Crowleen’s shadow on the cracked earth as she flew over the plateau’s edge. At last, a stream glimmered below, and she landed to drink and bathe.

  As she preened and puffed her feathers, a shadow fell across her. The silhouette flew southwest against the stars—a giant eagle and Sharr Shuvuu, who looked so small by its side.

  Crowleen sprang into the sky and followed. They flew over the desert for hours. The eagle would’ve flown faster had he not waited for the slow Sharr Shuvuu. That gal was too human for any decent flying. Crowleen had to slow her pace to hide behind. Sharr Shuvuu didn’t have sharp eyes like her eagle friend, but she had owl ears along with her human ones. Hopefully, she wouldn’t hear Crowleen following.

  Storm clouds built in the sky. When the heavens opened and pelted them with fat drops of cold rain, Sharr Shuvuu and her companion changed their course and aimed for the west coast. Eventually, they flew over a cliff and landed on the beach.

  Crowleen peeped over the cliff to catch sight of them entering a cave bigger than her house.

  As quietly as possible, she touched down on the beach and waited outside the cave, soaked from head to talon. Firelight flickered on the sand, and their voices echoed clearly, despite the pounding rain.

  “I can’t stay long,” Sharr Shuvuu said. “Need to pack my things for Hi-Tec. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “Is your brother capable?” A female voice asked. Odd. Didn’t know eagles could speak human.

  “Of what? Saving spirits in need or changing Eeporyo’s destiny?”

  “Changing Eeporyo’s destiny, of course.”

  “I guess so.”

  “There’s a problem.”

  “What?” Sharr Shuvuu asked.

  “All the psychics have been getting mixed messages since Bamdar was sent to the prison.”

  Crowleen widened her stance and fixated her hearing on the voices. She nodded. Aedre opening the portal caused the chaos.

  “No one knows what to tell your brother to do. We don’t know what messages to give him to pass to spirits in need.”

  “I don’t see why that’s my problem,” Sharr Shuvuu said with irritation in her voice. “I’ve passed my title, and I’m leaving.”

  Crowleen’s jaw hurt from clenching her beak. That Sharr Shuvuu was a stubborn lass.

  The eagle sighed. “I know. I just wanted to tell you.”

  “Has Roobish been in contact? Perhaps she knows.”

  The eagle said, “Roobish is dead.”

  Wrenching pain in her heart sent Crowleen stumbling backwards.

  “What’s that noise?” Sharr Shuvuu asked.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” The voice came from a half-naked clay woman who’d crept outside the cave. The giant eagle hadn’t been the one talking to Sharr Shuvuu, after all. The clay woman scowled at Crowleen. “Why are you listening to us?”

  Feisty one. “I’ve gotta speak to Sharr Shuvuu.”

  Sharr Shuvuu poked her head out of the cave. “Come in. You’re soaking. It’s cold out there.”

  Crowleen followed them in. The giant eagle—ten times bigger than herself, occupied the left side of the cave. He or she perched on the ground, eyes closed and white head lowered in sleep.

  The fire blazed on the right side of the cave, and the owl woman and clay woman sat, leaving space for Crowleen. She puffed out her feathers to dry them, then perched.

  The clay woman’s hematite pendant glinted above her breasts as she frowned at the flames. She must have ridden upon the eagle’s back.

  Roobish dead? If Crowleen cried, they shouldn’t recognise her tears amongst the drops of rain on her fe
athers. She had to hold it together.

  Sharr Shuvuu overlooked her anyway. “Can’t believe Roobish is dead. That’s awful. How did it happen?”

  “Don’t know. Saw it in a dream.”

  “Oh.”

  Crowleen lifted her eyebrows. Roobish probably wasn’t dead after all. Saw it in a dream? What a joke.

  Sharr Shuvuu stared at Crowleen. “Did you follow us?”

  Crowleen nodded and hunched her shoulders, gaze resting on the flames.

  “From the crater?”

  She nodded again. “The psychics are getting mixed messages because Aedre opened a time portal.”

  “What?” The clay woman bolted upright.

  “She never said anything about a time portal to me,” Sharr Shuvuu said.

  Crowleen pointed at Sharr Shuvuu. “She didn’t trust you.”

  Sharr Shuvuu flinched. “Is she alive? I thought she’d died like most of the Giokese population.”

  “Depends if she went through the time portal after she opened it in Giok. One thing I do know. She said she was paralysed when she begged me for the key with her male friend.”

  “Paralysed?” Sharr Shuvuu’s eye’s watered. “How’d she become paralysed?”

  “Saving Bamdar’s slaves. That’s all I know.”

  “Time portal?” Sharr Shuvuu cocked her head to the side while wiping a tear from her cheek. She looked at the clay woman. “I wonder if it’s the time portal Roobish used.”

  “I—”

  “It’s the same portal she used to return to the Firesnake,” Crowleen said. “Giok’s pyramid.”

  “Pyramid?” The clay woman shrugged. “How d’you know all this?”

  Crowleen’s breath hitched. She clenched and unclenched her talons. “I can’t tell you. This is for Sharr Shuvuu’s ears only.”

  The clay woman frowned and looked away.

  Crowleen gave a heavy sigh. “Sharr Shuvuu. Can I talk to you in private?”

  Sharr Shuvuu looked at the clay woman and tilted her head.

  The clay woman’s lips pressed into a grimace. “It’s up to you. But if the psychics knew—”

  Crowleen stood. “I’d prefer you to leave with your eagle, or Sharr Shuvuu and I fly together elsewhere.”

  “I need to get home anyway,” Sharr Shuvuu said.

  The clay woman nodded towards her eagle. “I’d prefer Ama to rest in here too. I’ve said everything I wanted to. Shall I only communicate with Shannis from now?”

  Sharr Shuvuu stood and wiped dirt from her wings and down-covered arse. “Yes, please.”

  The two birds took to the sky and followed the chalk cliffs south.

  Sharr Shuvuu looked at the crow. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  “Crowleen.”

  “Who are you?”

  “The keeper of keys.”

  “What keys?”

  “Keys to the time portals.”

  “In the pyramids?”

  She nodded. “Amethyst pyramids.”

  Sharr Shuvuu frowned. “I’ve never heard about these being time portals before. Aedre and Jennefgarr—the woman in the cave—never told me about them. But I dreamed of Nerthlings rounding up Eeporyovian hybrids and taking them through our ancient amethyst pyramids.”

  “So, if that woman doesn’t know about the pyramids, the clay tribe don’t either?”

  “No. They know psychic prophecies about Bamdar and Aedre, but nothing about pyramids.”

  Crowleen wiggled her talons and leaned into the breeze. Good. The less who knew about the pyramids, the better. She winced. Shouldn’t have bloody-well uttered the word pyramid to that clay woman. Flippin’ heck. “Where are we flying to?”

  “Shotover woods.”

  At least her home was south of there. Wouldn’t be a wasted journey if Sharr Shuvuu refused.

  “Can you tell me what you want?”

  “This is hard to ask.”

  “What is it?”

  “I need to gather the pyramids’ keys, but can’t go through a time portal.”

  “And?”

  “If I use a key to open a pyramid from Eeporyo, could you go through, fetch the key from Giok’s pyramid, and bring it back to me?”

  “No way!”

  Crowleen’s stomach hardened. She held her beak high, slowing her course. “I knew you’d say that, damn it.”

  “No one’s impeding my future now.”

  “That’s selfish.”

  “No, it’s not. I’ve done my duty for the clay people. I’m sick of hearing about prophecies and travelling by bloody river and bloody rain!”

  She could understand that. That’s what her whole bloody life had been about after she stole her first key from the Satsang elite during their occupancy of Eeporyo.

  The owl lass went on with her rant. “I want a normal life. This time’s for me. I don’t want to see Aedre ever again.”

  “Well, you won’t. Because if Aedre didn’t die in Giok’s volcanic eruption, she must’ve gone through the pyramid with all the other people she was intent on saving. If she’s alive, she’s trapped in the future and ain’t coming back.”

  Sharr Shuvuu lowered her gaze towards the coastline. “Please leave me. I need to go home and pack up for Hi-Tec.”

  “If the Satsang use their time machines, they’ll invade Eeporyo again.”

  “Well, hopefully, it won’t happen in my lifetime.”

  ***

  Crowleen perched in her straw room with her feathered chin rested on her human hands. How could she get to that key in Giok’s pyramid without leaving her own keys unattended in Eeporyo? Build booby traps into the alert system? If the booby traps injured instead of killed, the cries could alert more people to her hideout.

  Since Roobish, she’d had no other friends. But if that key remained in Giok’s pyramid, although time would be frozen, another time traveller would eventually go through to take it. She’d have to risk her keys and go herself.

  Chapter 23*Aedre

  Aran, the man carrying Aedre waited in line behind the swarm of villagers pushing to exit the baking pyramid. “Where’s your family?”

  “In Nerthus.”

  “That’s far away.”

  “Where are your family?”

  “That’s my brother.” He nodded towards the smaller guy in front. “The rest of my family are in Rajanakki. I’m a migrant from Rajka.”

  “What were you doing in Giok?”

  “I was working in a hotel. Just a pile of stones now, though. Your Innarmuzzan’s very good.”

  “Thanks.”

  The sun blazed down on them as they left the pyramid. While most of the mass dispersed to explore their surroundings, many stayed in small groups, chatting or sitting on the ground, sobbing.

  Aran carried Aedre to the edge of the hill. Instead of dusty land cleared of trees and bordered by rice paddies, jungle stretched out in every direction—no roads or paths, just narrow tracks, made by wild animals.

  The groups of villagers all talked at once, and the sound of chatter resonated loudly in Aedre’s ears. Individuals ran from group to group, talking to other friends, asking questions, or tending to the sick and vulnerable. Others scrambled down the sides of the hill to venture into the forest.

  A low-frequency roar, followed by shouting and screams, caused many people to run to the plateau’s rocky verge. Aran carried Aedre towards the source of trouble.

  A mountain lioness had pinned a man down at the bottom of the ridge.

  The victim rasped for breath. With bulging eyes, he stared at the onlookers. “Help!”

  Aedre gasped.

  Everyone froze. No one dared go near.

  “Daddy!” A little girl cried. The mother held her tightly, resisting the child’s struggle. She looked at the men. “Please, someone, help him!”

  Aran rushed back to the pyramid. “I’ve gotta help.” He lowered Aedre to the ground and frowned when he couldn’t sit her up against the pyramid’s edge. Her upper-body fell sideways.
>
  “Just lay me down. Don’t worry.”

  He lay her on her back, then went. She strained her head off the ground as he climbed down the embankment.

  Another roar shook the air. Shouts and cries from the bystanders followed.

  “Daddy!”

  Aedre’s pulse banged in her ears.

  The man who’d carried her scrambled back over the slope and returned, shaking his head. “It’s too wild here.”

  “What happened?”

  “The lion crushed his skull with its jaws. He’s dead.”

  The little girl’s mother wailed loudest.

  “It’s too dangerous.” A woman bent down to hug and pat the three small children around her legs. “Can’t we go to a different time?”

  Aedre bit her lip. Should they go farther into the future? Where had civilisation gone?

  “Look, Mama,” the woman’s daughter said. “There are houses in the clouds.”

  Aedre’s breath stalled, and her lips parted. She squinted into the sky.

  Far above the clouds was infrastructure, much higher than any she’d seen before. It didn’t twinkle, but was black, and didn’t seem to be connected by stems of Biluglass like sky cities in Nerthus. Rather than Biluglass stems holding it up, it seemed to hang from the sky as if someone had pinned it from above.

  Aedre’s carrier pointed. “That’s where we need to go.”

  “Bet there ain’t no wild animals up there,” the woman with three children said.

  An elderly woman sat by Aedre. Aedre felt nothing when the woman rubbed her arm. “I can’t get up there with my old bones. Doubt you can either, hey?”

  “No,” Aedre said.

  A group of men came by and argued over what to do. Some suggested they build homes on the hilltop and others wanted to split up into smaller groups to look for new places to stay.

  They said a lot had gone over the hill’s edge in different directions, and not returned, while others had planned on bringing back firewood, fruit, water, and materials for weapons.

  Aedre’s gaze searched the throng of people for Wayang, Komang, the grandfather, and kids, but so far, no good.

  Gus and his mother emerged from the crowd. His face was wet from crying.

  He looked at Aedre. “Sorry. If I knew you were lying on the ground like this, I would’ve done something. You need shade. Your skin’s burning.”