Obsidian Tears

by Jaleta Clegg

  "And maybe we'll get out in one piece," I said. It wasn't looking like there was a chance of that ever happening.

  "We're still alive," Vance said. He threw my own words back at me.

  "You're right." I ate a bite of the grain. It was hot and it was food.

  "Tell me more that wasn't in the report," he said after a moment. "Tell me your impressions and your guesses."

  "Tell me what was left out of that report," I answered. "It was pretty complete."

  The guards outside slammed their spears against stone. That was all the warning we had before Koresh'Niktakket of Kishtosnitass strode into the room. He was angry, his crest fully erect, adding a good eight inches to his already impressive height.

  I stood up from the stone, making sure I had the Eggstone firmly in my hand. He didn't even glance at it.

  "I demand blood price. Your people have slaughtered our warriors. You dishonor us, not giving clean death."

  "They aren't my people."

  He hissed, a wordless sound of anger that made me shiver inside.

  "They are not my people," I repeated. "What will convince you I speak truth? There are over a dozen peoples in the Empire alone. Many look much like me, but we do not mate, we do not breed, because they are not my people." I emphasized each word, the harsh sounds of their language tearing at my throat. I ignored the pain. It was nothing compared to what he was going to do if I couldn't convince him.

  "They hunt us as animals, as drosht!"

  "They are not my kind!"

  He hissed and snapped his head back. I'd interrupted him. He would have cuffed a lesser ranking Sessimoniss, with his poison claw out, for offering such an insult.

  "They hunt my people as well," I said pushing my argument. "They shoot down our ships. We do not know who they are. We are trying to find out. We are looking for ways to stop them."

  "You promised help, before." His yellow eyes burned white in anger. "Is this your help? You convinced us we were weak. You took our strength."

  "I did nothing of the sort. You did not want our help."

  He snapped back as if slapped.

  "He was coming here," I said waving back at Vance. "He is the one sent to help you, to make contact with your clans and Council. And you ignore his presence as if he does not exist. You dishonor my people! We respect your ways, your people, your traditions, and you will not give us the same courtesy. We are not Sessimoniss, we are human and we have our own ways. We give respect and receive only dishonor and accusations in return. Those ships are not ours."

  Koresh'Niktakket of Kishtosnitass, leader of a ragged group of refugees, stood still as stone. He blinked, very slowly, then turned his head to Vance.

  "He does not speak your tongue as I do," I continued in a milder voice. "He has tried to learn, but he does not have the assistance of the Eggstone."

  Kishtosnitass was slowly lowering his crest, losing his anger.

  "Tell us what has happened," I urged. "Tell us that we may offer what help we can."

  "I do not expose my weakness to a possible enemy." He turned and left before I could answer.

  "What was that about?" Vance asked.

  I told him, I repeated and translated every word I could remember. "We're probably going to die soon," I added at the end. "He's convinced that those invaders are from the Empire."

  Vance didn't say anything. He moved back to his diagrams.

  I stared down at our congealing dinner. I couldn't eat it. I lay on the single blanket we'd been given and stared at the ceiling until I fell asleep.

  I had nightmares. I relived the execution of two Patrol officers who had landed on Serrimonia a century earlier. The memory was a gift from the Eggstone. The same fate waited for us now. Sometime in the night, I dreamed Tayvis was holding me, keeping the nightmares away. I felt his arm around me, the warmth of his body against my back. I slept better after that.

  I woke up to find it wasn't Tayvis, but Vance, that held me. I slid out from under his arm. I didn't want it to be Vance. I wanted it to be Tayvis.

  But he was missing, somewhere out this direction in space. I had to get off Serrimonia. I had to find Tayvis. I couldn't live without him.

  Our privy was beginning to smell. I did what I could about it, which was precious little. Vance was awake when I came back out. He watched me as I washed my face with a handful of water from the bucket. I sucked another handful down, wishing it were something stronger, something that might help me forget. Just for a while.

  "Are your nightmares usually that bad?" he asked.

  "No," I said baldly. I didn't want to talk about my problems. I wanted out of the cave. I wanted to be back on my ship, trading with Jasyn and being teased by Clark and cheating at cards with Beryn.

  Vance wisely left me alone after that.

  The skitarrit brought us another tray of grain. It was a lot smaller than before. It didn't matter. I couldn't choke down more than a few bites. Vance didn't eat much of it either.

  He studied his diagram for a long time, scratching occasionally with his rock.

  Time crept past. The skitarrit came in with a knotted branch and replaced the torch. Vance sat back, watching her in her ragged brown robe. She moved quickly, nervous and shy. She lighted the new torch and scuttled away, the stub of the other still smoking in her hand. Vance stared after her, his face a tight mask. He threw down his rock and marched over to the door.

  "What are you doing?" I asked, worried that he was about to do something stupid.

  He ignored me. I got up. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, but I wasn't fast enough. He ducked out the door. I hurried over, limping heavily.

  The guards turned, their spears held ready. He grabbed the first guard's spear, his hands planted firmly between the scaled ones of the Sessimoniss. It didn't seem to matter to him that the Sessimoniss was a foot taller and had poisoned claws. Vance twisted the spear up and down. The Sessimoniss reacted with a snarl, shifting the spear around to hit Vance. Only Vance wasn't where the Sessimoniss expected him to be. Vance moved to the side, pulling the spear out and away. He twisted it around, planting the butt between the guard's feet. He moved quickly, and knocked the guard onto his back in one swift movement.

  The other guard reacted, charging in with his spear. Vance met him, blocking his spear with the one he'd taken from the downed guard. The thunk of wood hitting wood echoed in the silent cave.

  They traded blows, back and forth. I stayed in the doorway, biting my lip. I expected Vance to be poisoned at any second. Or for the other spear to slice him open. He blocked every blow and gave more than a few of his own.

  He collected an audience. Sessimoniss warriors came rushing up the ramp, stopping well clear of the fight. The guard Vance had already knocked down slowly got to his feet. His crest was half up, flushing red.

  Vance traded a flurry of blows with the other guard. He was more than holding his own. It didn't make me any less nervous. I took a step away from the door and stopped. The Eggstone was useless in my hand. Whatever was going to happen was beyond my control.

  The Sessimoniss pushed Vance, shifting him almost to the edge of the flat spot in front of our cave. Vance's foot slipped. He tumbled forward, rolling under the other's spear. He came up, his own spear slapping the other on the back. The Sessimoniss stumbled forward a step, towards the drop, before catching his balance. He whirled back, catching Vance's spear and shoving his arm wide. Vance moved with the blow, keeping the protection of the spear and blocking the other's backhanded blow.

  I looked to the ramp and saw Kishtosnitass push his way through the crowd. He gave me one unreadable glance before focusing his attention on the fight. I went cold inside. He looked more alien in that moment than he had before. I didn't know what he thought, or why. I didn't know what to do. And the Eggstone remained inert in my hold.

  A spear rapped against flesh, the sound dull and heavy. I turned back to the fight, expecting to find Vance down and bleeding. He wasn't. The guard retreated from him, s
narling in pain. Vance kept after him, his spear a blur as he spun it in front of him. Blows rained on the guard, some blocked, most landing on his shoulders and arms. Vance increased the tempo. The guard's spear went flying to the side, to roll to a stop against my foot. The guard went down, landing heavily on his back. Vance brought the spear down.

  And stopped with the point barely above the exposed throat of the guard. The cave was still, frozen, watching to see what he would do. He was breathing hard. Sweat rolled down his cheek. The Sessimoniss watching did not move.

  "Dace?" Vance called without looking away from the guard under his spear. "How do I end this without killing him?"

  "I grant you mercy," I said in the Sessimoniss tongue.

  Vance repeated it. And again. He stepped back, the spear rising away from the guard's throat.

  "Human weakness," Koresh'Niktakket of Kishtosnitass spat. His eyes sought mine. "Once before you refused to finish a duel. You are weak. You have never killed."

  "I have killed," I said flatly. I didn't want to confess it, I didn't want to remember. "More than a dozen warriors. But only when necessary. Only when they threatened my clan."

  Kishtosnitass' eyes widened in surprise. That emotion was close enough to the human one that I could read it.

  "Is it weakness to grant a warrior his life, when that life is needed to fight for his clan against a greater enemy?" I was aware of Vance watching me. I couldn't spare attention to see why.

  "You would have us fight these invaders?" Kishtosnitass was wary of me now. "We need more than spears against their weapons. They have that which pulls a warrior's will from his body and leaves him vulnerable."

  It came clear to me then. I knew who the invaders were. I knew who flew the ghost ships. I knew what they wanted. I'd met distant relatives of these invaders, on Vallius. But these were not stupid, inbred mutants in a lost colony that went wrong. These understood their technology, or else they would not be here in ships, they would not be hunting the Sessimoniss for sport. I didn't know what I could do against them. I shivered inside just thinking about it.

  *Take me to the temple,* the Eggstone whispered in my mind. It sent a flash of memory, a vision of the block of skystone that recharged its energies. I knew what the Eggstone planned.

  "The Eggstone will block their weapons," I said, feeling a surge of optimism. "It will keep them useless. So your spears can taste of their blood."

  The Sessimoniss moved, an eddy of a wave of hope. Kishtosnitass remained still, his gaze locked on mine.

  "The Eggstone is dead," he said.

  I looked down at the black stone in my hands. The web of cracks was still there, silver lines under the glossy surface. I cupped it in both hands and lifted it slowly in front of me.

  "Show them you're still alive," I whispered to it. I willed the stone to respond.

  The Eggstone sucked energy from me in a wave that left my knees shaking. It poured down my arms and into that enigmatic black stone. The Eggstone flashed, a white so pure it burned the eyes.

  The Sessimoniss sank to their knees, all except Kishtosnitass. He was still watching me. I held the Eggstone up higher, though my arms felt like rubber.

  "There is your proof," I said. "Get me to the temple, where the altar is, and the Eggstone will fight for you."

  His gaze dropped to the Eggstone. I understood in that moment how much he had already sacrificed, how much change he had already made. He had taken what he could gather, regardless of clan, and melded them into a new group. He stood as leader, in a way that no other Sessimoniss ever had. And now I asked him to accept me, an outsider, an alien. I asked him to make more changes. And I tasted his despair and confusion.

  The Sessimoniss were proud, warriors who had never faced defeat. Until now. They were broken, scattered and hunted as animals. They clung to the remnants of their pride. I wanted to offer them more, but I could only offer them hope, however small it was. If they could change enough to let me.

  His gaze dropped to the stone in my hands, warm and still faintly glowing. He slowly knelt and pressed his face to the floor. Tears stung my eyes. I did not want to humble him this far. I crossed the ledge to stand over him. I reached down and touched his crest, the flexible spines cold and strange under my hand at the same time they were maddeningly familiar.

  "You are a warrior, a leader of leaders, you will not kneel to me or anyone," I said.

  I felt him stiffen. I stepped back. He lifted his head to stare at me.

  "What do you want of me? I offer obeisance to you."

  "I do not want it. I want you to stand as warriors. I want you to be free again."

  He stared, still on his knees. His eyes were deep yellow. I held out one hand to him. He could have killed me then. One swipe from his poison claw was all it would have taken. He reached up instead, hesitant and slow. His hand rested in mine, claws and scales rough on my skin.

  "Stand, Koresh'Niktakket of the Sessimoniss," I said. "Be the warrior leader your people need."

  His crest rose on his head, the spines flushing a deep blue. He stood in one fluid movement, dropping my hand. He raised his spear over his head and gave voice to a wordless shout.

  It echoed through the cave. They were still for only a breath longer.

  The Sessimoniss warriors were on their feet, shouting and banging spears. I felt their hope rising. I felt their strength. I held the Eggstone against me and felt tears in my eyes.

  "Teach us to fight as you do," Kishtosnitass said. But not to me, he talked directly to Vance. "Teach us," he repeated.

  Vance bowed to him, a warrior's salute to his leader. And then he offered the spear back to the guard he'd taken it from. The guard stared at him then at the spear. And very slowly took it back, bowing to Vance.

  I let out the breath I hadn't been aware I'd been holding.

  Chapter 11

  Vance moved down to the wider space below. He drilled them, teaching them to fight as he had. They were quick to learn. I stayed up on the ledge, even though we were free to move about. I watched. I knew how to fight, but not with lengths of wood longer than I was tall. I stroked the Eggstone absently. It had gone dormant again, that one burst had drained it, and me.

  I heard footsteps approaching. I turned to look.

  Kishtosnitass approached, with a dozen warriors at his back. These were the high ranking ones, those that were left. I bowed to them, a greeting of equal to equal. Kishtosnitass hesitated just a breath before he returned the bow.

  "It will not be easy," Kishtosnitass said without preamble. "They have landed in the plaza. They desecrate our temples with their presence. We cannot fight them there."

  I studied him a long moment, thinking fast and hard. "Do you have maps? Something to write with?"

  He cocked his head, watching me. He flicked a signal at one of the warriors. The warrior moved away quickly, back down the ramp.

  "You have more surprises?" he asked.

  "There is a back way in, and an altar in the priestess' rooms. That is where we must be. A few warriors can slip in. The others can then attack in force."

  He nodded. The warrior returned carrying a single sheet of what they used for paper. There was nothing to write with. We ended up using sticks of charred wood. We also ended up sketching across the stone of the floor.

  "There are others," Kishtosnitass said, interrupting me as I tried to remember the back way in to the temple of the Eggstone.

  I looked up at him.

  "Others who escaped," he clarified. "Our warriors number too few."

  "Not in courage," I said.

  He blinked, the sideways sliding of lids that showed amusement. He had come far in a short time.

  "We will send out messages. We will meet here," he stabbed our map of the city crudely smudged onto the floor. "Two weeks." Ten days, of their time.

  "We need more information," I said. "How many, where…"

  He touched my hand with one claw, a gentle tap. I looked up from the map.

 
"We will fight them. We will drive them from our world or we will die." He left the rest unspoken.

  I nodded acceptance. This was all out war. There was no room for mercy or retreat. Not now.

  They rose and bowed. I stood, wincing as I stepped wrong with my bad ankle.

  "We will return the Eggstone to its temple," he said. "And then we will fight for our world."

  "I salute your courage."

  "We have learned from one small and weak." With that comment, he turned and left, his warriors at his back.

  Vance returned to the cave when the skitarrit brought dinner. It was only the grain, but for some reason, it tasted much better. He looked tired, but satisfied with himself.

  "How did the planning go?" he asked me.

  I shrugged, my mouth full.

  "Did you take tactics at the Academy?" he asked.

  "No," I said after I swallowed. "Did you take hand to hand combat?"

  "Some." He studied me a long moment. "What did you study at the Academy?"

  "Piloting and engineering. Lowell didn't provide you a copy of my records?"

  He shook his head. "He did say you were unusual. That you had skills and talents I might find surprising."

  I wondered about that. Lowell knew way too much about me. He knew about the highly illegal lockpicks I kept on my person at all times. He knew about the illegal blasters I kept hidden on my ship. And he chose not to say or do anything about them. Because I was much too useful to him.

  "What is the plan? Full frontal assault?"

  "Eventually," I said. "I have to get the Eggstone to the temple. It can nullify their weapons. With the right power source."

  He cocked his head to one side.

  "It's complicated," I said when he opened his mouth. "There's a block of uncut skystone there that the Eggstone uses to channel energy."

  "Skystone?" He sounded very surprised. Skystones were the most valuable, sought after gemstone in the Empire. I was one of only a handful who knew where they actually came from. The Eggstone produced them as a byproduct of its recharging cycle. They looked cut and polished, every one perfect, a palm sized piece of deep blue.