He pulled away from her. “That’s not true. You only say that because you’re afraid. If you lose your virginity, then you are no longer a whale singer, and that takes you off the hook. You’re trying to run because you feel responsible for everyone’s safety, and you think you cannot bear that. You have a special power and it seems like it all depends on you. I understand how that feels, but what you must understand is that you’re not alone. Jascenda, Chasha, myself — the whole crew, in fact — and Meithu as well, we all share the burden.”
What had Aiyan said to them? “If we hold to our spirit and trust one another, we will get through this.”
Lerica stood on the deck of Calico, wiping the lens of her spyglass and raising it again to stare at the smudge on the horizon. She couldn’t decide if it was land or just a cloud. But then Ubtarune leapt up from where he sat on the bowsprit, holding his arms out like a seagull in flight.
“Gavdi,” he announced.
He had spent the last five days sitting astride on the bowsprit in nothing more than shorts and a straw hat. From time to time he would raise one arm to indicate a course correction. He even sat there at night.
For an old man, he could sure take a lot of abuse, Lerica thought. Didn’t he ever sleep?
She hadn’t been sleeping well herself. She had thought she would enjoy sleeping alone again, not cramped against the bulkhead, able to flop from side to side freely, and cooler without his warmth on these hot nights, but apparently she had got used to Kyric being there.
She had wanted him for a shipboard fling from the first, thinking that with his rugged good-looks and sculpted body he would make a fine part-time lover. But the slave camp had changed everything, and it had ended up being so much more than that. After the slave camp she had gone numb. She could hide any feeling she had from anyone, even Uncle Ellec, but feeling nothing at all was worse than the torture. And then Kyric was there with his damn eternal moment. She had wished for something to make her feel alive again. Well, she had gotten it.
She went to her uncle’s cabin and rapped on the door. “He says we’re there. No hurry. We’re still two hours out.”
By the time she came back on deck, Ubtarune had fetched his bundle and unwrapped it. It contained his feathered cloak and a skullcap with a small feathered crest, a diaphanous yellow under-robe, and a finely stitched vest and skirt. He whistled softly as he dressed, at last taking up a wand carved in the shape of a feathered serpent, a tiny basket on the headpiece holding a pungent mixture of spices. He already cut a figure of mystery in his full ceremonial dress, then his eyes narrowed, and he wasn’t a funny old man anymore.
The sun shone directly overhead by the time they got a good look at the island. Mostly treeless, it rose steeply, with grey-green meadows lying between sharp rocky peaks.
“I see a hillside dotted with color,” Uncle Ellec said, peering through the spyglass. “Is that a spice field? No, wait. They look like painted haystacks, huts maybe.” He turned to Ubtarune. “Are those the houses of the Gavdi?”
Ubtarune nodded solemnly. “Those are the Gavdi.”
It wasn’t long before they approached the shore and Ubtarune pointed at the entrance to a deep cove. Uncle Ellec told Pallan to steer that way and have the fore and mizzen sails furled. At that moment, Lerica watched as one of the so-called huts, one splashed in red, yellow, and blue, spread its wings and leaped from a stony hillside, taking flight over the ocean.
“They’re birds!” Lerica said, the shock making her backpedal a few steps. “They’re big damn monster birds.”
The creature wheeled on the breeze, and Lerica felt her shadow-self move in its recesses. The great bird’s wingspan was wider than the length of the ship.
She ran to Ubtarune saying, “Hey, what the hell?”
He looked at her blankly.
Another giant avian took flight, this one striped green and black. It circled high over the ocean, then dived, leveling out just above the waves, dipping its massive head into the water and coming up with a flailing seal clamped tightly in its beak. The Gavdi bird flew straight to shore, throwing the seal down onto the rocks, settling next to the carcass and examining it with an insane eye. Then it snapped up the seal and swallowed it whole.
“These prehistoric birds,” Ellec said to Ubtarune, “they’re the Gavdi? Why did you never tell me this?”
“Everyone knows of the Gavdi. How do you not know?”
“You knew I wanted to trade for spice.”
“Have no fear. You will be allowed the purple spice, but you must come ashore and pick it with your own hand.”
Ellec pulled at his moustache. “Are you sure these things won’t attack us?”
“It will be safe. I will cleanse the way.”
He went to stand at the bow of the ship. He breathed on the headpiece of his wand, and the spice mixture within burst into flame. Thick, scented smoke drifted across the deck.
They entered the cove on a dying wind, the water nearly flat and reflecting a blurry image of the rocky shore. Ubtarune waved his wand slowly from side to side, the smoke hanging in clouds as Calico drifted to a halt. Dozens and dozens of the great birds sat in repose on rocky perches, their heads tucked under their wings. The hillside lay crossed with streaks of bright blue — some kind of flowering plant.
Ellec and Lerica rowed Ubtarune to a gravelly beach in the ship’s jolly boat. He repeated sternly that the others must stay aboard Calico no matter what happened ashore. They followed Ubtarune up the hill, each carrying a clay jar. As they climbed, the Gavdi birds began to stir on the heights to either side, and within Lerica, the shadow-cat began to stir as well.
She locked eyes with her uncle. She could see it happening in him too.
“Go easy,” he said, perhaps to himself. “We are fearless.”
The spice lay before them in a meadow, sky-blue flowers with purple eyes, growing at the end of waist-high stalks. Ubtarune raised his arms and sang a long, continuous verse that was as much a bird cry as a song. Above them, one of the great birds raised its head. It was blue and green with splashes of deep purple, and clearly the largest of the flock.
“You may take the spice now,” Ubtarune said. “But take only the correct amount.”
“And how much is that?” Lerica said.
“You will know. Oh, and don’t pick the flowers.”
“So the flowers are not part of the spice?” Ellec said.
He and Lerica looked more closely. A cluster of purple string-like fibers grew from the center of each flower. Ellec picked a string and crumbled it into his hand. He held it out to Lerica and she sniffed it cautiously. It smelled like all the colors of the rainbow.
“This is it,” Ellec said, almost beaming. “Let’s go about this calmly, but waste no time.”
Lerica could see at once that it would take hours to fill her jar. But according to her uncle, one jar of this would be worth a ton of cardamom. She picked the little fibers quickly and didn’t look up. The feeling that the Gavdi birds were waking got stronger, almost overwhelming, and still she focused only on picking the spice from one flower and moving on to the next.
She didn’t know how long it had been, but her jar was only a third full when Ubtarune said, “I am ready now.”
“I was wondering,” Uncle Ellec said to her as he continued to pick relentlessly. “Didn’t he say something about making an alliance with the Gavdi? That’s what made me think they were people.”
“Be still!”
They looked up. Ubtarune glared at them. All around them, the Gavdi birds were awake. Perched on feet like dragon claws, they hopped from side to side, spreading their wings for balance, pressing closer together as more of them moved down from the heights. Lerica and Ellec stopped picking and capped their jars.
“It is my time,” Ubtarune said. “Witness now my greatest act of power.”
He climbed to the spine of a low ridge and followed it to the outcropping where the great purple-splashed creature stood, the eldest of
its flock perhaps. He walked closer and closer, right up to it, and opened his mouth and screamed like an eagle. He began a ritual dance, the movements like a bird in flight, Lerica thought. But when he began to sing, it was a human song. He was speaking to the Gavdi bird.
‘He’s casting some kind of spell over it,’ Ellec signed.
Even perched, the creature loomed over him like he was a toy figure. It watched him and didn’t move. Ubtarune came to the end of his dance and his song. The Gavdi bird cocked its head at him, then let loose a cry.
It was a scream that shattered the very air. Lerica winced in pain as the cry echoed in her head. It had been louder than a canon blast. But it seemed to have no effect on Ubtarune. He placed his wand against his chest and crossed his arms over it. He closed his eyes, bowed his head, and stood still.
In the blink of an eye, the creature took him in its beak and swallowed him whole. It raised its head skyward in triumph.
Ellec gasped. “Oh my Goddess.”
Lerica felt the shadow-cat spring from its lair. She drew her sabre. “We have to cut him out!”
She started forward but Ellec seized her wrist. All the Gavdi birds were slowly pressing forward, staring at them with their mad, mad eyes. More of them were flying in from other parts of the island. Lerica didn’t know why she was worried about that — any one of them could kill her and Uncle Ellec with ease. She was afraid that with so many, one of them would be pressured into attacking.
“No, Lerica. It will kill you,” Ellec said. “We cannot help him. We have to get out of here before they cut us off from the boat.”
They backed quickly down the hillside, Lerica brandishing her sabre while Ellec got his pistol out and cocked it, but the creatures only watched them as they stumbled to the shore, getting into the jolly boat and pushing off. By the time they reached Calico some of the Gavdi birds had come down to perch at the edge of the cove. A few more circled high overhead.
“Load the swivel guns,” Ellec called to Pallan as he climbed aboard. “Break out the muskets.” He licked a finger and held it up to the lazy breeze. “Raise all sails — spritsail too.”
Lerica leaned over the side. Her guts churned. She wanted to throw up, but the shadow-cat wouldn’t let her.
“It was like he knew what would happen, like he wanted it to eat him.”
“Why would he want that?” Ellec said. “No, his spell simply wasn’t strong enough. His alliance with the Gavdi has failed.”
They sailed away from Gavdi Island as the sun sank toward the sea. Uncle Ellec kept the guns and muskets at the ready, but none of the monstrous birds came after them. As the ocean turned dark and the first stars peeped out, Lerica stood at the taffrail, looking back. For a moment, she thought she saw something high in the sky and far behind.
CHAPTER 9: Two Monsters
Kyric watched the sunrise through a veil of clouds. The sea was grey and choppy, and the wind blew strangely cool from the south, racing just ahead of a storm line. Everyone sat still, waiting for the squall to hit.
“Timarru comes with the rain,” Dinala said to Jascenda. Meithu grinned. He was ready to sing, but Jascenda had another plan.
She gave a nod to Chasha, who had the sail shortened at once, then she twirled her storm lure and screamed at the sky. The wind rose quickly, shifting a little, and suddenly the boat picked up speed, shooting through the waves, spray flying, the mast and lines and outriggers all creaking sharply. And still Jascenda twirled.
“Everyone tie yourself to the boat,” Chasha called, throwing her full weight onto the steering oar. Kyric lashed himself to the same thwart where he had tied Caleem. The mast complained loudly, and it took all three sail handlers to trim the sheet. The boat cut sharply through the ocean and pulled away from the storm.
They sailed at a breakneck pace for more than an hour before Jascenda collapsed and lay sprawled in the bottom of the canoe gasping for breath. But she had conjured enough wind to carry them into the afternoon. The squall fell behind and sank beneath the horizon. They never saw the monster whale.
“Can we continue to evade it the whole way?” Kyric asked her.
Jascenda answered softly so that no one else could hear. “No. But Dinala needed more time. She must find her center once again before she can sing.”
The wind beat at the waves throughout the long afternoon. It began to drop as the sun set, and early twilight found them on a calm sea in the lightest of breezes. The evening turned sultry as warm air pushed down from the north. Some scattered clouds, high in the sky, cast a strange glow over the ocean.
Kyric felt the weird touch him as a sudden tension in the air. He went forward to stand on a box and search the horizon. Everyone sat still, listening.
“There,” said Chasha, pointing to starboard.
In the distance a pale shape rode low in the water, throwing up a bow wave with its blunt prow. It surged ahead of them, and trailed a long wake as it swam furiously.
“It is Timarru,” Jascenda said, not moving from where she sat. Whatever was going to happen, she was going to let it be.
Dinala and Meithu went to stand amidships, wrapping their shoulders in the blue shawls of the whale singers. Timarru swung around to charge straight at them, sending a fountain of water skyward through its blowhole.
It had the head of a sperm whale, dirty white and crimped, but it became green and scaly toward the tail, which was long and sleek and had the upright fin of a great fish. Dinala began to sing a high but distorted melody, like music heard underwater, and Meithu joined in with the harmony. Kyric was surprised at the depth of the kid’s voice. His part was the echo from the ocean floor.
Everyone held their breath as the two of them sang, the whale serpent getting closer. They could see its open jaws. It could easily bite the boat in half. Kyric fetched his longbow and quickly strung it, feeling in his quiver for an arrow that was heavier than the others. He didn’t know where he would shoot the creature if it came to that — he couldn’t get a bead on its eyes, and hitting it in the jaw probably wouldn’t hurt it.
The singing hadn’t slowed the creature. Dinala closed her eyes and let the full timbre of her voice ring out. Timarru opened his huge jaws wider and Kyric could see down his throat. A weird cue told him that the monster would be vulnerable there. He took aim.
Brui and Leil held hands and lowered their heads — they knew they were going to die. Dinala sustained a long note, and Meithu sang its third an octave lower. Timarru was upon them. Kyric could see the barnacles on its head.
The singers fell silent. The moment had come.
Kyric lowered his bow.
“He has heard us,” Dinala said.
The creature’s jaws snapped closed and it dived. The boat shuddered as it passed underneath. It didn’t come up again.
Meithu jumped up and down, bursting with relieved laughter. He turned a full circle and shot everyone a silly grin. Dinala sat down with her face in her hands and cried quietly.
Later, when Jascenda came forward to look at Caleem, she asked Kyric, “Why didn’t you loose your arrow?”
“I figured if you and the rest of the crew could trust Dinala, then I could as well. Besides, there wasn’t much chance that I could kill a creature like that with one shot.”
Jascenda looked at him with a sharp eye. “That’s not what I heard in the whisper of the wind.”
The town of Mantua was in the midst of a storm of noise. Every Manutu fighter hooted or whistled or made a loud trilling cry. It was a frightening sound.
Aiyan climbed the spiral ladder to the lower platform of the central tree, pushing through the line of Manutu archers waiting there and continuing on to the upper platform. He stepped onto the walkway leading east and moved along quickly, sidestepping men with blowguns, taking one branching walkway and then another, following it all the way to where it ended, high on the trunk of some forest giant. This was the place.
A skirmish had already begun along the southeast edge of the town. As the
vanguard of Soth Garo’s army pushed through the tree line and into Mantua proper, they found the ragged lines of Manutu hunters giving ground, throwing spears as they retreated. Arrows and darts rained sporadically from platforms in the trees and the connecting walkways.
Aiyan had wondered what purpose they served. These catwalks ran like a maze through the treetops from one end of the town to the other. The Manutu called them skywalks, and seemed to use them only as a place to take a stroll and catch some cool air. Perhaps defense was the true purpose; it certainly suited the Manutu style of fighting.
Witaan and Mahai had convinced the Manutu leaders to do as the Silasese had done and abandon Mantua in favor of joining the others in Tiah. Reports that Soth Garo’s army had been spotted only a day’s march away made the argument easy. But most of the Manutu nation had gathered here, and getting them organized and moving down the narrow forest road had been difficult. Mahai had led a force of bowmen to harass the advancing troops and was able to slow them a little. Most of the women and children had gotten away, but it was in a long, slow-moving column. The enemy had to be delayed to give them more time.
Aiyan had spent the day wandering Mantua, looking for the place where he could ambush Soth Garo. He couldn’t find a spot that felt right. He had assumed it would be a place that would get him within sword’s reach. It wasn’t until he tried the roofs of the houses that he thought about going higher, and at the very end of the skywalk he found it.
Mahai waved at him from the upper platform of the central tree. It turned out that he was quite an archer once they gave him a bow. He was, in fact, remarkable in many ways. Aiyan figured that Mahai had almost all the gifts required to be a candidate for the flaming blade: skilled in combat and scouting, excellent intuition, a sense of the weird, and a resilient spirit. More resilient than Kyric’s spirit, Aiyan thought, and yet perhaps not as strong. But both of them stood on a common ground with all who were drawn to Esaiya: they had been broken in some way, and still they went on.
Black Spice (Book 3) Page 9
