“But you said you didn’t have enough for that to work,” Priya said.
“Not if the dragon ate it, no,” Asha said. “But if we could get the drug directly into the animal’s blood, then it might work, at least for a little while.”
“A narcotic?” Nadira asked. “You want to put it to sleep?”
“Yes.”
The Damascena grinned and shook her head. “And then what? We should just walk home very quietly and try not to wake it?”
Asha frowned. “Once it’s asleep, you’ll have to kill it.”
“Those scales in your ear must make it hard to hear. I told you, my sword can’t break its armor. I tried. You were there, you saw. At best, I might stab out its eyes and hack out its tongue. I could make it bleed, and I could make it suffer. But I don’t think I can kill it, and I don’t want a blind rampaging dragon outside the walls of my city.”
Asha paused, staring at the powdered seeds and dried flower petals in her hands, and the scalpels and needles in the bottom of her bag. “Then maybe I can do it. But you’ll still need to subdue the dragon first. I’ll make an opiate paste to spread on your sword. You’ll have to cut it on the face again to get the drug into its blood. Can you do that?”
Nadira shrugged. “Sure. I’ve done it once, I can do it again.”
Asha sat down, took out her tools, and began grinding and mixing. A vast silence blanketed the valley as the moon rose in the southern sky and the constellations began their nightly trek across the heavens. The only sound in the world was the gentle breath of the wind playing through the grass.
“Sister Nadira?” Priya spoke softly. “Can you tell me what it’s like to be immortal? I can’t imagine what it would be like to walk in the world for so many lifetimes. To see the world growing and changing. Whole dynasties. Whole civilizations. I’m sure it has given you many profound insights into life and humanity.”
“Not really.” The Damascena chewed on her finger nail.
“Oh. I see.” The blind woman cleared her throat. “Could you tell me anything at all about your life? Please? I’d just like to try to understand what you’ve experienced. Please?”
Nadira sighed. “All right. Well, I entered the Mazdan Temple when I was young. I prayed, I fed the hungry, and I tended the sick. And then Bashir offered to make me immortal so I could help him. He taught me the laws of aether so I could study it, to find out whether the aether might be a path to understanding God and the meaning of life, or at least life beyond death. I was flattered and awed, so I agreed. I was so very stupid.”
She rested her hand on her sword and spat in the grass. “So Bashir moved on and I went to work. Over the years, I moved around the city, reinventing myself to avoid suspicion. I built schools and hospitals, and I trained other nuns. And I looked for the answers to Bashir’s questions. But then there would be a war, or a plague, or a fire. Sooner or later, everything I built was destroyed. My hospitals were looted. My schools were torn down. My students and friends died. Over and over again. Over, and over, and over.
“For five hundred miserable years, I stayed the course. I built and I taught and I studied, trying to find some answers, trying to understand the aether, trying to find God. But after five centuries of watching everything die and crumble into dust, after watching every stupid person make every stupid mistake again and again, after all those years of trying to save humanity from the darkness…I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
Asha continued grinding her seeds. She didn’t look up.
“So I quit, little sister,” Nadira said. “I quit all of it.”
“You gave up on humanity?” Priya whispered.
The Damascena snorted. “Humanity gave up on itself. I just stopped caring. For a while I did nothing at all. I slept all day in the slums and wandered all night through the streets. And somewhere along the way, I picked up a sword and started killing the rats. Murderers, rapists, thieves. I don’t know why, really. I guess since I couldn’t ever make anything good, I wanted to try to destroy something evil instead.”
Nadira leaned back with her hands behind her head, staring up at the stars. “At first I killed them in their sleep, but eventually I learned to fight and I started killing them when they were awake. And for a while, I was happy. I was saving people. I was making a difference.” She chuckled softly. “Until one day I stood over the body of a murderer and I recognized him. Twenty years earlier I’d saved his life, when he was just a little boy. And that’s when I realized I still wasn’t making any difference at all.”
“That’s awful. I’m so sorry,” Priya said. “But obviously you didn’t give up the sword.”
“No. I left the city. I went to war. I cut my hair and dressed as a man, followed the soldiers at a distance, and then rushed onto the battlefield when no one would notice me.” Nadira gazed up at the moon. “I thought that maybe I could change the course of some battle, save a good prince’s life, or kill a bad one. Then maybe I could change the world. And I was right. From time to time, one soldier can change the course of history. I killed generals and messengers and princes and food tasters. And sometimes it would make Damascus a slightly better place.”
Priya nodded slowly. “Killing for gain or passion is a terrible evil. But killing can also be a solemn duty when it is done solely for the good of others, and not for one’s self. It’s a very hard path, but that’s a worthy calling too.”
Nadira scratched at her nose. “It’s less of a calling for me. More of a hobby, I’d say.”
“Oh.” Priya hesitated. “Well, I hope that one day you find what you’re looking for. Or at least, a better way to make a difference. Violence is not a path to peace or enlightenment.”
“Violence is the only path to peace, little sister,” Nadira said. “And that’s the only enlightenment I’ve ever found.”
6
The sun rose small and bright white in a pale blue sky streaked with pink and yellow clouds. The three women sat in the grass against the rock beside the cave and stared out over the valley. The trees shivered in the wind and the grass rippled as though it were a single living creature just beginning to stretch and wake up. Asha looked over at Nadira, seeing her clearly for the first time. She wore the same padded armor and blue tunic as the men who had ridden out the day before to face the dragon, and she held the same turbaned helmet in her lap.
Her thin black hair had been chopped short and it fluttered in the breeze around the edges of her face. Her eyes were dark and lidded, her mouth rested in a slight frown, and she slouched back against the rock with her legs splayed out crookedly in front of her. But she had long lashes and full lips and a graceful neck, and somewhere beneath all the dirt and the scowling Asha thought she could almost see the pretty young girl that the woman had once been. Almost.
Asha looked sharply to the west. “It’s coming.”
Nadira stood and drew her saber. The blade shone like silver in the morning light and Asha saw the fine lines swirling across the face of the steel like rippling water or spider silk twisting in the wind. A distant roar brought her gaze back to the far ridge and a dark undulating shape climbed into view. The dragon’s head rose up, framed by the fiery circle of the rising sun. It hissed, and then it dove down the slope to cross the valley.
“You might want to hide now, little sister,” Nadira muttered. Priya nodded and vanished into the dark hole in the earth.
“Here.” Asha scooped up her fresh opium paste with a flat wooden stick and smeared it liberally down both sides of the sword. “All right. This should do. Just cut it as deep as you can, and then get away from it. If we’re lucky, the dragon will collapse in a minute or so.”
“A minute can be a very long time on the battlefield,” Nadira said. “I’d rather not learn what it means to be disemboweled by a dragon, since it would be a memory I’d have to live with for a very long time.”
Asha nodded slowly. “That’s a good point. So, uhm, be careful, and good luck.”
“When the b
east is down, then what?” Nadira asked.
“Then I’ll kill it.”
“With what? You have some poison? Some other sort of weapon?”
Asha stared at the monster slithering across the valley toward them. “I have something.” And then she knelt down and crawled backward into the tunnel, backing into the darkness just far enough to be well out of sight, but still able to see some portion of the field outside.
Nadira stood in front of the cave, her sword hanging at her side. “Hey, healer. Are you afraid of dying?” she asked.
“Sometimes,” Asha said, her voice echoing in the narrow cave. “Are you?”
“Always. Every day of my life.”
“Even after two thousand years? But you know you can’t die. Why be afraid?”
Nadira looked back over her shoulder. There was a nervous grin on her lips that flickered and died, and her mouth shook. Her eyes shivered and she said, “Because if I ever do die, then I’ll have to answer for everything I’ve done, for the sins of two thousand years. Tell me something. Do you believe in hell? Torment in the afterlife? Punishment after death?”
“No.”
Nadira’s lip trembled. “I do.” She blinked and swallowed, and managed a smile. Then she cleared her throat very loudly and squared her shoulders to face the beast. “Now, let’s see if I can slay a dragon. That’s something I’ve never killed before.”
Asha stared at the woman’s back, wondering what she could possibly say in response. And she was still staring when the golden dragon erupted up the hillside and blotted out the sky. The beast roared as it crashed down onto its scarlet claws and it snapped its whiskered jaws at the armored woman, but it pulled back before it made contact. It hovered over her, sniffing and snorting.
Nadira crouched, waiting.
The dragon swiped a set of claws at her and she leapt aside. It swung again and she leapt back. A third time the claws slashed at the woman and she raised her sword to meet the blow. The impact sent her to her knees and Asha saw Nadira sinking into the soft earth as the dragon bore down on her, but the saber did not break and neither did the woman.
Nadira twisted and rolled aside, letting the red claws slide off her blade, sending the dragon stumbling a half step to the side. She straightened up and held her sword out to one side, and then her hand began to turn. She rolled her hand at the wrist, faster and faster, whirling her saber into a singing disc that flashed in the morning light.
The dragon stared down, its ruby eyes fixed on the pulsing light on the spinning blade. The beast leaned down to hiss at her and Nadira leapt up to slash across its snout. A thin spatter of red flew across the ground and Asha felt her heart race into her throat as the dragon snapped its head away, squealing like a frightened pig. But the squeal deepened into a bloody roar and the dragon turned on its side and swept the field with its tail. Nadira ran toward the coming wave of golden scales and leapt high, but the dragon sent a rippling wave through its spine and its tail curled up to catch the woman in midair. The crash of armor on scales shrieked through air.
Nadira flipped and slammed to the ground on her back, gasping for breath. Slowly, she rolled over onto her stomach and pushed herself up on her hands and knees, and then the dragon struck. Its massive head darted as quickly as a viper’s and snatched the woman up in its silver fangs as its own blood ran down its snout.
“No!” Asha scrambled out of the cave and waved her arms in the air. “Let her go! Let her go! I’m right here! Come and get me, you snake!”
The beast screamed, its jaws opening wide to let Nadira drop to the ground as the dragon lurched forward, its steaming maw driving straight at Asha.
The herbalist ran along the rock face and felt the earth shudder as the dragon crashed into the stone wall. She ran among the boulders, her entire body electrified with adrenaline and terror, her eyes casting around wildly for shelter, for anything that might shield her from the beast, but the rocks were all too small and too far apart. There was nothing but trampled grass and slick dirt where the dragon had thrashed its way down the hill the night before. Asha bolted across the slope, looking for something, anything, that could save her.
The dragon leapt after her and slammed into the ground just behind her, sending a shockwave through the earth that hurled her off her feet. Asha slipped and tumbled head over heels, rolling and rolling down the steep hillside out of control, her arms wrapped around her head as the world whirled round and round.
Her feet struck a rock and she curling into a ball, one hand clutching her ankle just as her back struck a mound of earth and her body abruptly stopped moving. Asha lay on the ground, shivering. Her lungs would barely let her inhale and her heart was pounding so hard and fast that she couldn’t tell one beat from the next.
She opened her eyes and the world spun viciously to the left, and she nearly vomited. But she pushed herself up, blinking to clear her mind and gasping for air. She turned her head toward the hillside and saw a blur of movement, a cascade of green and brown and gray and gold coming toward her.
With painful slowness and deliberation, she crawled forward over the mound of earth that had caught her and tumbled down a small incline onto some tall dew-soaked grass just as another deep reverberation shook the earth under her and the clatter of falling stones filled the air. Asha rolled over and looked at the small landslide just beyond her feet.
The dragon’s bloody snout lay just beside her own muddy shoe. The rest of the creature lay somewhere behind the head, over the earthen mound and out of sight. It was staring at her with one huge ruby eye, but its eye did not follow her as she stood up. It did not focus on her as she drew the small golden needle from her bag, which had tangled around her neck and nearly choked her as she fell.
And the eye did not react when she plunged the needle straight into the bloody wound on the dragon’s nose.
7
Instantly Asha felt the needle growing hotter in her hand, but still she held on, making certain that the tool stayed in place. A soft hiss filled the air like sound of a distant waterfall and Asha glimpsed a few stray wisps of aether as they poured out of the dragon’s blood and into the golden needle. Within a few moments, the beast’s shining scales grew duller and grayer, its bright red eyes becoming flatter and dimmer. The last hot gasp drifted out of the animal’s mouth and it lay absolutely still.
Asha shoved the hot needle deep into the dragon’s flesh and took her hand away painted in dark red blood. Her lungs burned, her ankle throbbed, and her head spun as Asha sat down on the muddy earth and leaned back against the beast’s jaw. She pressed her right ear against its armored flesh to listen, and found its heart quite silent and the deep thrum of its soul faint and growing fainter. She closed her eyes and exhaled.
A moment later she opened her eyes. The deep thrum of the dragon-soul was growing louder again. Asha stood and stumbled away from the body, searching it for signs of life but there were none. Not a breath, not a quiver. Still the dragon-soul rumbled louder and Asha turned and turned, trying to find the source of the sound. Finally she stopped and closed her eyes, trying to focus. And then she realized.
Opening her eyes, she saw that her right hand was no longer painted in blood. It was covered in golden scales. The transformation crept up her arm slowly, hardening her soft brown skin into bronze plates, filling her veins with fire, filling her chest with needling pain. She could see the crimson claws poking out from her fingers, and she could feel the two slender antlers trying to sprout from her head. The world around her faded into a red mist punctuated by a few white shapes. The white body of the dragon beside her. The white bodies of the two women running down the hillside toward her.
Asha fell to all fours, gasping and choking on the sultry vapors seething out of her lungs. Her teeth clicked and scraped in her mouth and the base of her spine throbbed as her body screamed out for a tail, a long and glorious tail to whip and slither behind her.
The two white shapes stumbled to halt in front of her and Asha cou
ld hear their voices, muffled and distorted as though she were under water. And her belly was rumbling with a sharp and burning hunger.
“Go!” she tried to say. “Run!”
The two white shapes kept shouting and Asha felt hands on her arms and head. Gripped with rage and terror, she lunged left and right, back and forth, throwing the women aside. In her right eye she saw a silvery blade raised against her and in her left eye she saw a figure sitting on the ground clutching a tiny creature to her chest. Then the tiny creature flew up at Asha’s neck and a fountain of sharp pain erupted in her flesh, and the woman on the ground leapt up to place both of her hands on Asha’s face.
The white figure whispered something, over and over and over.
And then the world went dark.
8
When Asha awoke the first thing she saw was her hand, a familiar brown hand with rough pink nails and little white scars around the knuckles. The air tasted cool and clean, and the world, no longer obscured by a red veil, was bright blue and green. She rose up on her elbow with a groan. She was sitting in the grass on a level patch of earth with Priya and Nadira sitting beside her and a small fire crackling in a circle of stones.
Jagdish sat on her hip, peering at her with his tiny black eyes.
“There’s the little traitor,” she said hoarsely to the mongoose. “You bit me.” She touched her neck and found a small bandage there.
“I’m sorry about that,” Priya said, turning toward her. “But I needed his help to distract you for a moment so I could reach you.”
Asha smiled wearily. “I’ve always said a mongoose is a useful thing to have around.”
“How do you feel?” Nadira asked.
Asha sat all the way up, sending Jagdish scampering back to Priya’s lap. She rubbed her face and took her own pulse and tried to listen to her own breathing, but the sound was masked by a deep bass hum in her chest. She looked at Priya and frowned. “It’s still here. It’s still inside me. The dragon’s soul.”
Chimera The Complete Duet Page 22
