Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  Sheesha made a low growling noise, not aggressive.

  “Yes, all right, Sheesha, I’m coming.”

  She turned and found him waiting with his wing raised.

  “I don’t understand,” she said quietly but Sheesha was already snoring.

  It was fine for him to go to sleep immediately, he did not have her worries. Even though she was so tired it took her a long time to sleep as their options—or lack of them—went through her mind.

  They needed to keep moving but Yenteel’s injury made that impossible.

  One thing at a time was the last thought she remembered having as the warmth of Sheesha’s feathers drew her into sleep.

  Twelve

  “How big is Esternes?”

  She woke up with that question in her mind. She had asked it once when she had been at the townhouse and been struck to the floor for the impertinence. Her master then had not been a rich man, and he was a scholar. They lived by the sea although she was never allowed out to see it. She spent her time cleaning.

  But just because she was cleaning it did not mean that she did not have ears. The scholar was consulted for his wisdom and his astronomical predictions. This was a tricky area because such things were traditionally the province of the patterners. They kept their knowledge to themselves for the most part.

  The scholar knew he was walking a fine line but he always managed to keep to the right side of it. He did not trespass on the territory of the patterners. As far as Kantees knew he had never made a pattern in all the time she was with him. It was said that true skill with patterning required one be born with the talent and train with it for years.

  There were rumours of wild talent, even reports of one in the far south across the sea. But Kantees could not ask, she could only listen and learn.

  Except for that one day when the master had been looking at his maps. Someone had asked him a question and paid their money. She did not know what the question was, all she was doing was cleaning the grate. And the question popped into her head. She knew that Esternes was an island but she did not know how big. Just as the question popped into her head, it popped out of her mouth. In reply the master had knocked her to the ground.

  Her duties then kept her to the kitchen and the garden. Shortly thereafter she was sold.

  All for a question.

  Romain did not like her asking questions either. He preferred to dictate his wisdom in regard to the zirichasa for her to absorb. But she did have questions and sometimes they were things he had failed to mention so he could be angry but he still had to answer her.

  As time passed she learnt everything he had to offer and he simply repeated himself for he seemed incapable of remembering what it was he had told her. When Gally joined them it worked out for the best because it meant that he could lecture Gally who definitely did forget, or completely failed to understand and never would. So he could repeat himself as much as he wished.

  He ceased to instruct Kantees but she had questions and there was no one to ask.

  The day was bright, the air was cold, and there was dew on the ground. The cold did not bother her but it could not be good for Yenteel. She stepped out from the enfolding wings of Sheesha and stretched. Behind her she heard Sheesha doing the same and the broad shadow of his wings was draped across the ground.

  Looesa stood up, and dropped Gally to the ground before stretching. Only Shingul remained where she was still with her wing across Yenteel.

  Kantees sighed. She was still tired but the brightness of the day drove the sleep from her. She found the water bottle.

  “Gally, go to the river, fill this, and bring it back.”

  “I am hungry, Kantees.”

  “I am too, Gally, but we must look after Yenteel first.”

  “Why?”

  “He is hurt and ill. Fetch the water for him.”

  Gally grumbled but he went, followed by Looesa, and when Kantees knelt beside Yenteel, Shingul stood up and went after them. Some birds went about in flocks, Kantees knew, so perhaps zirichasa did as well, and they had been adopted. It was a question she could not answer, just as she did not know the size of Esternes.

  Yenteel’s colour looked bad in daylight but her concern was the broken pieces of arrow. Perhaps she should deal with this now, before Gally came back. She preferred to protect him from the more unpleasant parts of their adventure.

  With her knife she cut away the cloth of Yenteel’s jacket and shirt. It seemed a shame because they were of excellent quality. Whoever his master was, he dressed Yenteel well.

  The arrow had pierced the lower arm and it was not as bad as she feared. It had gone deep enough to hit a muscle but she did not think it had hit the bone beneath. Looking at the broken arrow she could see that pulling it back out was a bad idea since the break was full of broken bits of wood. It would tear his skin.

  Carefully she brought his arm back and away from his body then placed a knee on his hand and held his arm just above the arrow. She took hold of the broken end and pulled. The fact that Yenteel shuddered with the pain as she drew the wood through his arm pleased her—at least he could still feel pain. He was still in there.

  It did not take long before the arrows flights disappeared into him and then reappeared red with blood. Using the cloth she had cut off she made a bandage around the wounds. They seeped blood a little but it was not serious.

  She was shocked when Yenteel’s other hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder. His eyes were wide. “When you take it out. You must burn it.”

  She heard the words but she did not understand them. It must have been clear in her face as he panted. “Your knife. Make it hot, very hot, when you take out the arrow. Burn the skin shut. Seal it. Otherwise infection and bleeding. You understand?”

  His grip was like a ziri’s talon digging in to her. She nodded even though she did not know what ‘infection’ was. “I understand.”

  He let go and fell back. “Do it now, or I die.”

  She stared at his face and then at the wound at his side. He had lost consciousness again but she whispered. “I’ll try.”

  Gally was returning and presented her with the water bottle.

  “Find wood, Gally,” she said. “This is important we must make a fire as quick as we can. The hottest fire we can.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “Please, Gally, don’t be difficult. The hottest fire we can.”

  The ziri did not seem at all concerned by the fire that Kantees now had raging. She had built a small wall and filled it with tinder as Gally fetched larger sticks. She got it alight with her tinderbox and kept it going long enough to dry out the twigs which in turn dried out the branches Gally collected. The wall kept the heat in.

  Once she was satisfied with that she took a short, straight branch and using Yenteel’s boot straps tied the knife to the end of it and placed it into the fire.

  “We have to take the arrow out, Gally, but we must stop all the bleeding and to do that we must burn the skin.”

  “That will hurt him,” said Gally. “Bad.”

  “Yes it will but he told me I must do it. If we don’t he will die.”

  “I like Yenteel.”

  Kantees wasn’t sure she did, she barely knew him, and besides Gally liked almost everyone including those who were cruel to him—simply because he did not understand their taunts and tricks.

  “Yes, and that’s why we have to do this. But you have to help me.”

  “Help Kantees?”

  “Yes, you have to hold him. It will hurt when I take the arrow out, and it will hurt when I burn him. He will move and you have to hold him still otherwise it will be harder to help him.”

  It took a few more attempts to convince Gally that all this really would help even though it was like doing a bad thing.

  But in the end they could not delay any longer. The fire was hot. The blade wasn’t glowing, but it was as hot as she could manage.

  She had Gally kneel on Yenteel’s shoulders. And she put
her knee on his hand again. There wasn’t much she could do about his legs, she would just have to be quick. Thankfully she knew that the castle archers did not use barbed heads. It should come straight out, though she guessed there was a hands-length of wood and iron in Yenteel’s belly.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She did not want to do this. She might kill him, but if she didn’t do it he would die anyway and that would also be her fault.

  Her eyes open once more she smiled at Gally.

  “Ready?”

  He nodded seriously.

  Kantees took hold of the end of the arrow. She had cleaned it of blood and bound a short length of leather round it, so her hand would not slip. She had her other hand on the branch with the knife at its end.

  “Three … two … one … now.”

  The arrow seemed stuck at first she pulled harder and it came free. Yenteel squirmed and moaned with the pain. The shaft’s bloodied length slid out and dark blood flowed from the wound. She dropped the arrow, lifted the knife, and with both hands, prepared to press the flat against the hole in Yenteel’s side.

  It was such a small hole. She hesitated. Romain would always sew up injuries to the ziri. Blood leaked from his side but it did not pump. She had a needle and thread because Romain would check on her.

  “Kantees?” said Gally.

  She threw the knife away from her and it hissed in the grass, sending up tiny embers.

  “Fetch my bag, Gally, by Sheesha’s saddle. Quick.”

  She could sew the two sides together and it would heal as it should. If she burned him it would make a terrible scar and she could not be sure it would heal properly. Then she could bind him around the middle and it would help to hold the wound shut. If he rotted from the inside it would happen regardless of what method she used to mend him.

  Gally returned and she found the needle leather and the thread. It was strong and would not break easily. She had Gally hold him still while she poked the iron needle into him. It was like mending a hole in clothes. The skin was tougher but it worked the same way. And it did not take long.

  Yenteel was so far gone that he did not react to the pricking, she wondered whether that would have been true if she had burned him. No, this was far better.

  Rummaging through Yenteel’s bag she found a shirt. It wasn’t clean but it would do. She used it as a pad over the injury and wrapped cording several times around him to hold it in place. It would have to do.

  She looked up.

  The day had barely progressed. It was not even midday. The sky was clear save for a few slow moving clouds that seemed intent on avoiding the sun. The air remained cold but the it was warm in the light.

  She sat back exhausted.

  Yenteel was resting quietly and his breathing was steady though still shallow. Gally sat beside him holding his hand.

  The ziri were lying together with their long necks on the ground but Sheesha had his eyes open and looking at her across his flat snout.

  “I’ve done everything I can,” she said as if he could understand her. “It’s up to the Mother now.”

  Then her stomach growled and Sheesha glanced at her midriff accusingly. It made her laugh inside. Then the zirichak pushed himself up with his wings and sat back on his haunches, he put his head on its side to look at her.

  “You’re hungry?” she said. “It’s good for you. Can’t have you getting fat.”

  Sheesha gave a short calling bark and the other two lifted their heads. They looked in the direction of the mountains—shadowy and blue in the sunlight with their tips glowing white.

  “No, Sheesha!” Kantees stumbled to her feet. This was his take-off pose.

  He glanced briefly in his direction and then launched himself up. The down draught from his wings buffeted her. Then Looesa went up as well. They wheeled in a spiral gaining height with deep and powerful beats of their wings.

  They were beautiful with their feathers shimmering in iridescent blues and greens as the sun’s light reflected off them. Sheesha’s turn faced him towards the mountains and he shot away with Looesa in a perfect position to the right and behind.

  Kantees could do nothing but despair. She watched until the dots they became in the distance indistinguishable from the dots her eyes invented.

  He’s gone.

  Thirteen

  She brought her attention back to their meagre camp. Gally still sat with Yenteel, and Shingul still lay on the grass. Was she all right? But she had no reason to think there was anything wrong with the ziri.

  Why hadn’t she gone with the males?

  Kantees forced herself to calm. They must be coming back otherwise she would have gone.

  Surely that must be true?

  Gally was unconcerned but that was hardly surprising, he only worried about the small things. And he worried about Kantees. Keeping the secret of having seen her must have been difficult for him. As far as she knew he did not lie. So to be forced to keep silent must have made him suffer.

  She went back to where Yenteel lay and crouched down on the other side of him to Gally who was fiddling with something.

  “I wanted to thank you, Gally,” she said. He did not react but played with what looked like a smooth stone. Perhaps he picked it up at the stream. “I wanted to thank you for keeping my secret about riding Sheesha.”

  He said nothing.

  “If anybody asks now, you can tell them, it’s not a secret any more.”

  “They hurt Kantees?”

  “Not for that, Gally,” she said. “After what I’ve done now, stealing the ziri, they will punish me for that instead.”

  “Sheesha not stolen.”

  She smiled. “What would you call it then?”

  “Sheesha helping.”

  “But Sheesha, Looesa, and Shingul are just animals, Gally,” she said. “They just do as they’re told.” She looked in the direction that Sheesha had gone. “Well, when they want to, anyway.”

  Gally had gone back to the round stone. The sun glinted on it and she realised it was flat and round.

  “What’s that?”

  “Mine, I found it.”

  “I know but can I have a look.”

  “Gally’s coin.”

  “I promise I will give it back,” she said. “It looks very pretty, you could just come over here and show it to me if you don’t trust me to touch it.”

  Which was a dirty trick and she felt bad about it the moment the words came out. It was the sort of thing Daybian would say to manipulate people.

  Gally looked at her dubiously and then stretched out his arm across Yenteel’s body. Rather than take it Kantees held out her palm so he could decide to give it. It dropped heavily into her hand.

  It was a coin and not small. Very heavy too. It must be valuable. She had never had money; as a slave she was not allowed to own anything. Everyone broke the rule of course, but with small things that could be hidden easily.

  Back in the tower she had one of Sheesha’s feathers. They were supposed to hand them all in to be made into saleable items by people in the town—so they had value. But she had kept that one. Another crime to add to the list she would no doubt be punished for. Death would be too easy. No doubt there would be torture first to make sure she fully understood her crimes.

  She shook her head and tried to escape the morbid thoughts.

  It was not that she didn’t know what coins looked like. She had seen enough of them changing hands in the gambling at the races. But they were always of dark metal and very small, some of them tiny. She had never seen one like this.

  It had a man’s face on one side. He looked like a Taymalin and he had some sort of circlet on his head, perhaps a king or lord. The other side showed the image of a nachak just from the waist up, depicting only its cruel upper arms, its torso, and head. Who would have the symbol of a nachak? They were vicious night hunters, so the stories went, and very big.

  Not that she knew how big, there were stories that they were the size of a
house. Some of the armsmen claimed to have seen them but who knew if they were telling the truth.

  She stared at the coin and tilted it until it reflected the sun—brilliant yellow.

  At a guess this would probably be enough to buy a dozen slaves like her. Or enough food to keep her fed for a year. She looked up and smiled at Gally who had a concerned look on his face. She tossed it back; he caught it and gave her a relieved grin.

  She couldn’t keep it. If that was on her when she was caught it would be assumed she had stolen it which would be worth at least another day’s torture. Gally didn’t even understand what it was.

  Then it dawned on her. “Gally, where did you find it?”

  He pointed to the river.

  “Show me.”

  The words were hardly out of her mouth when she remembered Yenteel, lying there directly in front of her. She was annoyed at him for being like this. She stood up anyway.

  “Shingul?”

  The female was facing away from them and towards the mountains, but she lifted her head and bent her neck back to look at them.

  “Look after Yenteel, please.” She pointed down at his unconscious body.

  Shingul grunted in a way that implied she understood, although that was impossible, then went back to watching the mountains. Kantees shook her head. The ziri were confusing, on the one hand they could not be more than animals and yet they seemed to understand.

  “Show me the way, Gally.”

  They set off with Kantees puzzling over the ziri. People in the town kept zatesa as pets and to guard property. They were quite clever. But zirichasa were bigger. Did that mean they were cleverer?

  They approached the stream, Gally made to go straight through the mud.

  “Let’s go round,” said Kantees pointing to the side away from the woods. A coarse thick grass grew in the mud but she could see the cropped grass closer to the water further along.