by Arthur Slade
“You’re so wide-eyed I thought you needed to know more,” he said.
We sat on the wooden bench. It was whittled from a massive old tree stump and looked as if it had been there for a thousand years. We inhaled the smoke. More robed men came in and out and we waited. One thick-set bald woman in similar robes to the men strode right up to us, stared openly for several moments, then departed.
“She’s a gythia,” Thord whispered. “A priestess.”
“I love how he talks as if we don’t have a brain between us,” Megan said.
I kept my laughter silent.
We said nothing. We waited with our heads bent and I watched through the top of my hood. As the morning progressed other prayerful people arrived: farmers, tinkerers, old women with their knitted shawls. One man, who was as thin as a post, brought in a chicken and sacrificed it in a bowl-like indentation in the hearth, then left the body. A monk emerged a few minutes later and took the carcass away. At least the sacrifices weren’t wasted.
“So that’s how they get dinner,” Megan said. "Clever!"
"They’d be smarter if they asked them to bring it already cooked," I whispered.
Thord shot both of us an angry glance.
An hour passed and then another and another. The smoke made my eyes water and I grew dizzy. I wondered if there was something in the smoke. Hunger grumbled in my belly.
Doubt was growing in my mind. Did we have the right place? There may be another one-armed man in some tavern waiting for us to arrive. Or even another Woden village town with all the same ingredients.
Or the letter I’d found with Banderius's name on it was fake.
"This is taking too long," I said.
Thord blessed me with a frown. "Just pray. Or at least pretend to pray. Even the simplest farmer can do it."
By Belak I'll strangle him, I thought. That was as close as I could get to a prayer.
Then a bald gythia, her face and neck a series of swirling circular tattoos, came and stood in front of Thord. One of her eyes was white with cataracts. When she looked at me I felt a sharp pain in my dragon eye.
“You are our sisters and brothers from the red robes,” she said. I wasn’t certain if it was a question or a statement.
“Yes. We are,” Thord answered.
“You are not a stranger, Thord son of Thangbrand.” She had recognized him despite his mask. “These two are.”
“They are graduates of the red robes. We are searching for an old friend.”
“We know,” she said. “We were told to expect you by a man who once worked for us. You are not the first to come.”
That must mean others had been searching for Banderius. More survivors! Perhaps we were all gathering in some secret location. A group of us could easily strike back at Corwin and the emperor.
“How many others?” I asked.
She gave me a long stare. “It is not a large number, but it is not small.”
Oh, why did religious people speak in such riddles?
“The one who told you to expect us,” Thord whispered. “Where is he?”
She handed something to Thord that I couldn’t see. Thord looked at the item hidden in his palm, then pocketed it. “Follow the spear,” she said. “It will lead you to him.”
More riddles! I would have much preferred a “Banderius is in the third house on the left after the brown state house.”
“There are more strangers in Gudheim,” the priestess said. “Their eyes are on us now. You are in mortal danger.”
I glanced around. Two square-shouldered men had come in and were sitting at a bench behind us. Hoods hid their faces, and their cloaks were dirty. They had been traveling on horseback judging by the splashes of mud. The men sat very straight, which indicated military training. They blocked our way to the door we'd entered. On the other side of the room were two more figures. One was large and the other smaller—I was pretty certain that one was a woman.
A gothi went up to talk to the smaller one, and the woman waved him away. Metal glinted under her robe.
Armor.
The waving motion made her hood move enough that the dim light revealed her face. It was a face I’d last seen on graduation night.
Scyllia. My classmate.
My enemy.
I quickly turned away.
“We have to go now,” I whispered. “Scyllia is here.”
“Scyllia!” Megan hissed. “Are you certain?”
“Yes. With three others. She’s wearing armor and I’m sure they are, too. We have to get out of here.”
“The one-eyed one speaks truth,” the gythia said. I didn’t know if she was referring to herself or to me. I had two eyes. “You must come with me. Now.”
She turned away from us and we looked at each other. Thord shrugged and we followed her. I glanced back just as we stepped through a curtain to see that all four of the newly arrived were on their feet and heading in our direction.
The room had four doors. The priestess made a motion and two burly gothi went through the curtain. There was yelling. But I couldn’t make sense of what was being said.
“All doors to the outside are being watched by Akkad soldiers,” she said. “We knew one day this path to your friend would be closed.”
“Then where do we go?” Megan asked.
With surprising strength the gythia pushed a stone table aside, pulled a rug away and revealed a door in the grass floor. She opened it and practically shoved us down the darkened steps. “Go this way. May Tor watch over you. And remember to follow the spear.”
The door slammed above us. I heard her dragging the table into place.
Light appeared in Megan’s hand. She was holding a glowing light bauble above her head. It revealed a timber-supported tunnel that stretched a long distance into darkness.
Shouting came from right above us and the dim echo of metal on metal. "Are your priests armed?" Megan asked.
"Of course," Thord said. "And the priestesses, too."
“Then maybe they'll hold them for a bit," I said. "We had better run."
And so we ran.
19
The Spear
I took the lead because I could see the farthest. And we ran. And ran. The tunnel itself had a smooth floor and there were no cobwebs. Which must mean the gothi had kept this place clean. The tunnel wasn't ending. I turned back to look and saw no sign of pursuit.
Then a crash echoed down the tunnel, and shouting followed. I swear I heard Scyllia shouting orders.
“Faster!” Megan said. Though I didn’t know if I could go any faster.
The tunnel suddenly branched in three directions. “Which one?” Thord asked. I could see down all three with my dragon eye, and they each looked the same. I tried to picture what direction we were running and how far we'd gone under the city.
"We've been running north," I said. "I don't know your city. Do you think one of these comes up in another holy house?"
"There is only one house of the Raven Gods," Thord said. He pointed to our left. "That direction is toward the center of town. I don't think we want to climb out in the middle of a street."
"We just have to make a decision," Megan said. "Now! In fact, I'll do it. Let's take the one on the right."
It was as good a tunnel as any, and I rushed down it, hoping there was a door at the end of this branch. All I could hear now was the sound of our breathing and, despite trying to run as quietly as possible, the echoes of our footsteps. The tunnel curved ahead.
"This better not be a dead end," I said.
We came around a sharp corner and I was pleased to skid to a stop in front of a set of stairs. At the top was a stone trapdoor. I put up my hand and listened, willing my heart to slow down. There wasn’t a sound of Scyllia and her companions.
The door was heavy, but with all three of us pushing we could lift it a few inches. There was light outside. And what looked like grass. "We're outside the city walls!" Megan said.
We put our backs into it and pu
shed until the trapdoor was open a foot or two, the bright light blinding me. Our pursuers would see the light from a distance. But the door wouldn’t go any further, so Thord held it open with his back while the two of us crawled out. Then we grabbed on and lifted.
“You can let it go,” Megan said. “We’ve got it.”
He did so, but the door slipped out of our hands and thumped down. Thord pushed on it but could only lift it the span of his hand.
“It’s so heavy,” I said. "How did those priests ever open it?"
“Just leave me,” Thord said. He passed something to me, and I glanced down and recognized it as the thing the priestess had given him. I put it in the deepest pocket of my cloak.
“No,” Megan said. “We won’t leave you.”
“No,” I said a second later. “They’ll kill you.”
Then I leaned down and grabbed hold of the door as tight as I could. I stared at my hands, at the door, and with a grunt pulled up. My dragon eye seemed to flash, and my blood felt so hot it was burning in my veins. The door slowly lifted.
When I looked across, I saw that Megan wasn’t helping—she was standing back and her eyes were wide. And so were Thord’s eyes as he was frozen in position on the stairs. “Get out!” I shouted.
He jumped out. I let go and the trapdoor slammed shut.
"Umm..." Thord was pointing at the stone door. “How, how the Hades did you do that?”
I looked at my hands to see if they were cut. But I didn't feel pain. The blood continued to burn along every vein. “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Scyllia will be here in moments. We don’t want to meet her.”
“She’s right,” Megan said. “We'll have to figure that little 'lifting' mystery out later. They'll be able to track us if they have dogs or are half good at what they do. We need to get back to our swans.”
Thord led us along the hills. We raced past his parents’ home. It must be odd, I realized, to know they were only a few hundred strides away. They perhaps even saw us as shadows running along their hills, but he could not speak to them.
Of course, I could never speak to my parents.
Eventually we made it back to the stone barn. The sheep were still nervously pressed against the fence. We went into the barn to find the swans sitting calmly in the corner. Brax was sleeping.
The moment we entered the swans made angry honking sounds. “They’re hungry,” Thord said, and he hunted around until he found two pails of wheat which he set down in front of them. They ate as Megan and Thord saddled them.
“What is it that priestess gave us?” Thord asked.
I pulled out the small object and the chain unfolded. At the end of it was a spear the length of a finger. “It’s a toy spear.”
“It’s a compass,” Megan said. “But how will that help us find Banderius?”
We watched as it turned in the air and pointed to the west.
“It doesn’t even point north,” Thord said. “There’s something wrong with it.”
I stared at it, and momentarily it seemed to glow, but when I blinked the glow had vanished.
“Let me see it.” Megan stretched out her hand and I dropped it in her palm. She turned around the room. She was unkempt, but somehow it made her appear even more attractive. “No matter what direction I move, it points to the west. It’s not broken.”
“It just doesn’t know where north is,” I said. “So it’s no help.”
“No,” Megan said. “Remember what that witch woman told us?”
“She’s not a witch, she’s a gythia,” Thord said.
“Whatever.” Megan waved her free hand. “She said to follow the spear. This spear always points in one direction, so it must be charmed. There’s something Banderius has that it's attracted to. Maybe he wears a similar spear.”
If it was charmed, then that explained the slight glow I’d seen. “You’re right,” I said.
“You’re not the only smart one, Carmen,” she said.
I put my hands on my hips. “I never said I was smart.”
“It shows in your face. In how you’d always stick your hand up in class.”
“I had the right answer," I said. "That’s why I stuck my hand up.”
“Let’s forget about class for a moment.” Thord stepped between us. “If you’re right, then we just have to follow this to… to Banderius.”
“There’s one problem with that,” I said. “And it’s a big one.”
“Which is?” Megan asked.
“It’s pointing toward the Akkad Empire. Are we prepared to fly straight at our enemies?”
“She’s right.” Thord scratched at his temple, a habit of his that I’d noticed years ago. It was as if he was trying to wake his brain. “If we follow this far enough, we’ll end up in the city of Deva. It’s the most distant post of the Empire.”
“What choice do we have?” Megan said. “We either flee now and fly in any direction, or follow the words of the witch—the gythia, I mean.” She glanced at Thord and grinned. “See, I can learn things.”
“Hearing the three of you argue,” Brax said, his voice rumbling loud enough to startle me, “is like hearing children bicker. And I hate children. They're so hard to digest.” He didn't open his eye. I rolled my eyes because I knew he was joking. Neither Megan nor Thord looked certain, though. As far as I knew Brax hadn't moved at all since we’d left many hours earlier. Then I saw the book near his foot and realized he had been awake long enough to read.
“Do you have a suggestion?” I asked.
“Yes. Be quiet. I’m trying to digest.”
“You didn’t eat my father’s sheep, did you?” Thord asked.
“You didn’t eat my father’s sheep,” Brax repeated, somehow giving his voice a high pitch. “No. I was feeling kind. Oin has fewer sheep today.”
“You risked being seen?” I said.
“Hunger overcame me. You can’t fly me all night and expect me not to feed. The clouds are low, so there was cover and no one spotted me. Well, except the sheep. Right before they died.” He smiled at this but still hadn’t opened his eye.
“Since you seem to think we’re children,” Megan said, “tell us what to do, Father.”
This got Brax to open his eye and laugh. “Clever! I like your sharpness.” Was she somehow winning Brax over? “You are either flying into a trap, or your famed Banderius is doubly clever for hiding right under the emperor’s nose. Well, I guess it’s a long way from his nose, since Deva is as far as you can get from Akkadium. More like his toenails. But you know what I mean.”
“I say we go,” Thord said. “We can’t wait here. They’ll soon track us down. And they, too, have figured out what his hidden message is, so perhaps they’ll find Banderius.”
“I agree,” I said. Megan said nothing; she was already leading her swan out of the barn.
In a few moments we were in the air, winging through the clouds and heading toward the Akkad Empire.
20
Flight Across the Past
When we crossed the border, I got more than a chill. Five hundred years earlier the land below had been called Daega and was populated by artisans and warriors known for ceramics and their skill in weaving blue blankets. The Akkad Empire conquered them in a few short months. Thousands had died, and the Daegans were enslaved and those artisans ordered to build roads, temples and walls around the Akkad cities. Their ceramic bowls and plates were long broken, their exquisite blue blankets torn to shreds. But their ghosts whispered to me.
“You are inordinately pensive,” Brax said. A few wingbeats later he added: “Even for you.”
“Just thinking about the past,” I said.
“The past is a dead land,” he answered.
I pulled my cloak tighter around me. “Do you only say that because you were banished from your own lands?”
“It’s dead to me. Or at least I want them to be dead.” He said this with enough venom I shivered. “If we survive this and you fulfill your part of our bargain, you�
��ll find out exactly how dead that land can be.”
“You don’t make it sound like a pleasant trip.”
“It won’t be. I promise.” He drew in a deep breath. “Did you speak to a priestess in Gudheim?”
“Yes,” I said. “How did you know?”
“You mentioned her while recounting your adventure in the barbarian city. But I’m curious, were all the priests bald?”
“Yes.” Because I was behind him, I couldn’t see the look on his face. “Again I have to ask: how did you know?”
“I’ve read about the gythia and the gothi. Very interesting tattoo artists, those Woden priests. Did you know they bury the wives of chieftains with their husbands after they die? Sadly the wives are still alive.”
“They don’t do that anymore,” I said, though I hadn't read enough history of Woden to be sure whether I was right.
“Yes they do," he said. "They are human." He did his best shrug, that is as well as a dragon can shrug flying at full speed.
We had been following Megan for hours. The landscape below us became less mountainous and more like a prairie. Occasionally Megan would hold the spear compass out, stare at if for several moments, and then change direction. The lights of a city appeared in the distance.
“We are nearing Deva,” I said.
“I see that,” Brax said. “Your friends, though, with their measly human eyes, cannot see that far. We should tell them.”
He sped up, but at that same moment Megan made a signal that she would turn and she circled backwards, her swan cutting easily through the air. We hadn’t yet reached the city.
“It’s pointing straight down,” she said as she passed us. "We're here!" And, with that, she flew downwards.
We descended in a slow circle. There was nothing but blackness at first, and I worried that the ground was so dark we'd smash right into it. Then I saw massive stone walls glinting in the moonlight. An ancient fortress was below us, and the closer we got the older I realized it was. It wasn’t an Akkad design, so it must have belonged to the Daegans. Which meant it was several centuries old. There were trees growing up through the smaller buildings, and the walls were mostly crumbled but the main keep itself still looked sturdy.
