Looking down at the talisman in her hand, Eva had to agree. She felt the Wonder stone grow cold against her skin and proceeded to wrap up the man’s so-called gift in a spare blanket and stuff it in one her saddle bags. Whatever hope the man’s word promised felt wilted away. But then she saw Ivan, his chest rising in shallow breaths and knew the Scrawl could not last much longer.
Eva drew in a deep breath and sighed, running her hands over her tired eyes and through her dirty, tangled hair. “What other choice do we have?”
Sigrid opened her mouth to say something, but just shook her head and shrugged instead. “It’s your call.”
“I do not think this is a good idea, Eva-Lyn,” Chel said. “There is a reason the Juarag do not go to the north. It is not a good place. This Mother of Cities does not sound like a good place.”
Eva felt a wave of guilt wash over her again. Sigrid must have noticed it because she shot Eva a glance that told her not to apologize again. “Don’t say anything. Nobody forced us to come, we all chose to. I chose, Ivan chose and — well for Chel it wasn’t much of a choice, but still. This isn’t your fault.”
Eva swallowed her words and blew out another long sigh. “We leave for the city at first light.”
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, they bundled up Ivan as best they could and lifted him onto Belarus’ back. Unlike before, when he had been able to climb into the saddle and stay upright, it took both Sigrid and Eva to hoist him up. Already on the gryphon, Chel held Ivan in place while they tightened the leg straps on the saddle. Ivan was awake but stared at nothing in particular with glazed eyes. Whenever they talked to him, the Scrawl answered with a mumble or a brief nod.
“We’re going to get you taken care of,” Eva said, squeezing his leg before parting to get on Fury. “I promise.”
They flew low to keep Ivan from catching a worse chill. Meanwhile, Sigrid and Sven flew ahead holding a northeast direction. Ivan’s condition remained the same throughout the day, but they still made frequent stops to ensure the journey didn’t wear him out.
“The wound is beginning to smell, even with the bandages on,” Chel said in a low voice, far enough away that Ivan couldn’t hear. “He burns with a fever as well, Eva-lyn.”
“Just keep doing the best you can,” Eva said.
Later in the afternoon, Sigrid circled back around to them. She waved an arm and Eva and Chel brought the gryphons down to speak with her.
“There’s quite a few people ahead,” the dark-haired girl said. “Quite a few like the nuts we saw last night. They’re all headed in the same direction.”
“The Mother of Cities,” Eva said.
“Until they saw me, they were walking like the living dead — nobody singing, or shouting or anything else, not even the children. It’s like they’re heading to a funeral or something.”
“I still do not like it,” Chel said.
Eva glanced at her saddle bags on Fury where the talisman had remained since the night before and felt the same sense of dread building in her. She pushed it aside, knowing no matter what awaited them in the city, it couldn’t be worse than Ivan dying. “Let’s get going,” she said. “We must be getting close.”
They continued flying throughout the afternoon and into the evening, the lines of people stretching out for miles in every direction. Every kind of person imaginable passed below them: some on foot, herding sheep and goats, others riding horses or carts pulled by donkeys and ponies. Just like Sigrid said, they moved in relative silence for a group of people so large, the cries of the animals the only sound that punctuated the dust-filled dusk. Whenever they passed overhead, the people pointed and stared. Eva had them rise to a greater height but none of the travelers showed any violence toward the gryphon riders.
And then they saw it.
The sun had melted down to a candle-like stub, illuminating what could only be the Mother of Cities on the horizon. Like flies to a torch, all the people and herds below moved toward the city. Eva wondered where they had all come from until they drew closer to the city and it stole her awe.
The Mother of Cities sprawled like a fat old woman across the top of a large bluff with even more buildings spilling down both sides. The walls were built from coarse red stone, worn down by centuries of years of wind and rain. Half of their towers were crumbled like the nubs of broken teeth and contrasting colors of rough patchwork marked spots where the seamless walls had finally given way to the decay of time.
Behind the sagging battlements, clusters of buildings rose up, with no rhyme or reason to their design. In the orange glow of dusk, Eva picked out a few stone buildings standing tall and firm in the midst of squalor. She guessed those were the architectural remnants of the ancients whereas the multilevel adobe and wood shanties making up the rest of the city’s structures didn’t look as if they would last through a mild windstorm let alone centuries of wear.
Although it might have just been because of the dying light, Eva couldn’t see the other side of the city. It stretched on into the darkness until swallowed by night. In the center of it all, however, a gigantic square building, untouched by weather and wear, reigned over the sad remains of its former glory. An enormous rectangular slab of stone jutted out of the middle of the building. It looked so big and ancient that Eva guessed the city had been built around it. Even from a distance, it looked larger than the ships Eva had seen along the coast of Pandion, a giant crown for the old crone of a city.
“How many people you think fit inside that thing?” Sigrid wondered aloud when they pulled their gryphons up close to one another and hovered beyond the city walls.
“Too many,” Chel said.
“Well, we found it,” Sigrid said. “Now what?”
Eva felt her face flush. In her haste to find Ivan the help he needed she hadn’t thought to how they’d actually enter the city, or give the talisman to one of its residents. “We’ll…land outside the walls, I guess?”
“And wait in line with everyone else to get in?” Sigrid said, motioning to gates positioned on the city’s west and south facing sides. Hundreds and hundreds of people formed a solid line outside each of the gates, its tail growing longer and longer as more people sought entry into the city. Once more, Eva wondered what they could all be coming for. Surely all of them didn’t live inside the city all the time?
“Let me go on ahead,” Eva said. She knew Ivan didn’t have time for them to come up with some elaborate plan. “One gryphon is a much smaller threat.”
Sigrid sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Huh. I don’t think much intimidates them but go ahead. How long before we come rescue you?”
“Hurry,” Chel interrupted. She reached around Ivan to reposition his cloak and pull him upright as he slumped forward over Belarus’ neck. “He does not have much time.”
“And we can’t just fly in circles forever,” Sigrid yelled after her as Eva and Fury flew toward the walls.
Drawing closer, Eva saw a ragged assortment of guards patrolling the battlements. As Fury approached, they started yelling and pointing into the sky. Several rushed toward still-standing towers, no doubt to inform their commanders of the flying intruder. Eva directed Fury away from the gates before their presence worked the travelers into a frenzy. The last thing they needed was their first impression to incite a riot.
When Fury and Eva drew within bow range of the city walls, she directed the gryphon higher into the air. Dozens of archers poured out of the towers and guard houses, stringing their bows and placing arrows to strings. In the crowded streets within the Mother of Cities, she saw people screaming and running inside their houses.
Eva cursed her lack of planning. At their current height, it would be impossible to communicate that she came in peace. At the same time, she didn’t want to risk dipping down into shouting range for fear that she and Fury would end up filled with arrows like a pincushion. Fury, sensing her indecision let out an impatient screech, wiggling in the air as they hov
ered above the walls.
“I know, I know!” Eva said, “I’m thinking, alright?”
From her vantage point, Eva knew there was nowhere to land within the city that would allow them to get back in the air before being overrun. She’d almost decided to return to the group when the massive stone slab and accompanying building in the city center caught her eye. Gritting her teeth, Eva urged Fury toward it as fast as she could.
Thousands of torches lit up the city like a field of fireflies but Eva focused her attention on the enormous building ahead. Drawing close, she saw another set of walls around gardens and fountains that marked the structure as some kind of palace or temple. On the southern side of the building, a large courtyard was outlined by torches. Flying over top it, Eva spotted a startled collection of robed individuals.
Although it was hard to tell from her vantage, Eva didn’t think they were soldiers. Many of them resembled the bald, white-painted man they’d met the night before. More guards raced across the courtyard and onto the inner walls before one of the robed men raised his hands. Fury vented his frustration in a long, ear-splitting screech which did nothing to calm the soldiers.
One man, however, seemed to take charge. His dark red cloak shimmered in the torchlight, setting him apart from the others who were bare-chested or wore tan robes. Although Eva couldn’t hear what he was saying, the man in the red robes started speaking to one of the guards. Eva waited with every bit of patience she could muster, knowing how short Ivan’s time grew.
A few moments later, the ranks of archers lowered their bows and returned their arrows to quivers. The red-robed man looked up at Eva and she saw his face was painted with white and black in a similar skull pattern. He held up a small hand and then pointed to the courtyard. The soldiers and tan-robed men cleared a spot, indicating she should land.
“If anything happens, fly back and warn the others,” Eva told Fury as he began a spiraling descent. The gryphon chirped as if to indicate he’d already been planning on leaving her behind if something went wrong.
Fury’s talons scraped on the stone of the courtyard and he gave one last flap of his powerful wings to show everyone he meant business. Eva’s heart pounded and her head spun with fear. Only the thought of Ivan, sick and dying outside the city walls kept her from flying away. Using every bit of courage she could muster, she stepped down out of the saddle. The red-robed man approached her, stopping well outside of Fury’s reach but much closer than any of the others dared.
“Who are you to come to the Mother of Cities in such a manner?”
He had a deep, commanding voice radiating power. With his shaven head and robes, Eva would have taken him for a Scrawl, if not for a lack of rune markings on his head. She reached into the saddle bag and yanked out the talisman. When the tan-robed men saw it, they began murmuring to one another.
“My name is Evelyn of Rhylance,” Eva said. “I was traveling east and one of my companions was injured in a battle. I came across a group of people like you — one man gave me this and said I might find healing here for my friend. We are peaceful.”
The man paused to consider her words. When he shifted his stance his robes moved as well and Eva noticed rune markings on his chest, although the handful of characters wasn’t even close to how many Ivan had, let alone a Rune Master. The talisman seemed to grow heavier and Eva wished the man would take it. She’d almost convinced herself to jump on Fury’s back and fly away when the man finally spoke.
“This priest you met was right to send you here,” he said. “My name is Anarchos. I am steward and high priest of the Mother of Cities. Where is your injured companion? I may be able to help him.”
“Am I allowed safe passage to bring him to you?” Eva asked, looking at the guards who still fingered their bowstrings.
The high priest nodded. “I swear it. The word shall be spread. None will harm you while you are under my protection. Collect your friends and return here, to the Temple of the Ancestors.”
“Thank you!” Eva shouted, already climbing onto Fury. “I will return shortly.”
Urging Fury faster and faster into the sky, Eva pushed aside all feelings of unease and dread. With every beat of Fury’s wings, she told herself Ivan would make it. For the first time in days, she felt real hope.
Chapter Twelve
“I do not like this,” Chel said for the dozenth time since they’d landed. It might’ve been more — Eva lost count. A crowd filled the square in front of the temple, jostling over one another to get a glimpse of the gryphons and their riders. A ring of guards in mismatched clothing and armor held the onlookers at bay at the edge of the ring. Eva noted none of the people tried to push forward, or even speak with the armed men and women. A cracked fountain stood in the center of the open area, a small gurgle of water spreading a green ooze down the side.
Sigrid grasped her weapons, both her and Sven’s eyes darting around, like a pair of caged animals. Belarus and Fury were likewise cagey and spun in circles, wary of putting armed guards at their backs. Eva hoped none of them would start a fight while she and Chel worked to untie Ivan from Belarus’ saddle as the gryphon let out another nervous call and twisted away from them yet again.
“It’s going to be fine,” Eva said, as much to herself as Chel. “Look for a man in red — he’s the governor. That’s who I spoke with.”
“Welcome!”
Behind them, the governor stood on the large stone steps leading up to the temple. Despite the limited space for the audience, Eva noticed none of them ventured onto the steps, aside from the red-robed man and a few guards. He raised his hands in greeting atop a short platform flanked on either side by crumbling, half-naked statues. Most were so far gone Eva couldn’t say if they were male or female, let alone guess at who they might be.
“On behalf of all people who call the Mother of Cities their home, please, consider yourselves our guests.” When he finished speaking, the man lowered his hands and strode down the remaining steps. As he reached the people, the crowd parted without any encouragement from the guards trailing behind him. Most looked on in reverence but a scattered few in the front smashed themselves back against the people behind them like they would catch a disease if they got too close to the red-robed man.
“I do not —”
Eva hushed Chel before she could finish then forced a smile on her face. When the man drew close, she clasped her left fist to her chest in the customary Windsworn salute. “Thank you, for your hospitality, Lord Anarchos.”
Anarchos gave a full-bodied laugh and shook his head. “Lord? Oh no. I am but a humble priest of the Ancestors in stewardship of this city and her people.”
“Just Anarchos then,” Eva half said, half asked, the need to get Ivan help more pressing than formalities. She gestured to the Scrawl, lying on the ground. “Please, can you help him?”
The governor-priest’s brow furrowed at the trembling Scrawl. By the time Eva returned to the others, Ivan had drifted out of consciousness. Now he lay limp on the ground, save the occasional mutter or twitch. His eyes were sunken and shut, despite the jostling of their landing. Eva stepped aside and the governor knelt down next to Ivan and placed a painted hand on the boy’s brow.
“We believe the weapon that cut him had some type of poison or —”
The governor held up a hand to silence Eva. “There is no time to waste, we must be quick.” He stood and clapped his hands at the armed men who’d trailed him down the temple steps. Then barked out an order in a language Eva didn’t understand. Four of the guards stepped forward and gently lifted Ivan between them.
“Come,” Anarchos said, gesturing for them to follow as the soldiers began carrying Ivan away. “We must get him to the temple before it is too late.”
Without waiting to hear Chel’s likely objections, Eva followed the governor up the steps. The Juarag-Vo girl fell in behind her, grumbling under her breath. Sigrid brought up the rear with the gryphons close behind. As if sensing their movement, the governor tur
ned around and raised a questioning eyebrow at Eva.
“Our gryphons are used to staying near to us,” Eva said, choosing her words carefully so as not to insult the man or insinuate they might be in danger from their new hosts. “Would it be possible for someone to wait outside the temple with them?”
“That will be fine,” Anarchos said. “I will spread the word that the creatures are not to be approached.”
They climbed the long steps to the temple doors and Eva felt the great shadow of the stone slab above them grow until it loomed over them like a foreboding storm cloud. Glancing up, she realized for the first time just how big it was, and wondered if the Mother of Cities had been built around it, or if some miraculous magical feat had raised it there. The sides of the stair were lined with other broken statues, many with rune inscriptions at their bases. Like the others, however, these were so worn that only a couple of characters were decipherable. Still, Eva got the impression they were walking a hallowed path, a causeway of heroes and great deeds long forgotten to the outside world.
Glancing up at the gigantic stone doors marking the entrance of the temple, Eva’s heart froze. On either side of the entry, a colossal golem kept watch. She stopped so suddenly that Chel ran into the back of her as Eva reached for her sword. It wasn’t until the blade was halfway out that she realized the statues weren’t alive. Instead of fire burning through the eyeslits of their helms, Eva saw only darkness. Although they stood proud as the day they’d been crafted, dark green spots and bits of corrosion flecked the bronze golems. When Eva realized they lacked the runes and iron armor of the Smelterborn she’d faced in the Gyr, she heaved a shuddering sigh.
“Is…something the matter?” Anarchos asked. Somehow, the priest had sensed they’d stopped and raised another quizzical eyebrow at Eva.
“N-no,” Eva said, trying to regain her composure. “It’s just a lot to take in. Your temple is truly a magnificent structure.”
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