The demon picked up the case-object, passed it to the opposite side of its body, and held it out. One male took it, stood turning it over in its twiggy fingers, then carried the object away, into the recesses of the cave. From the corner of her eye, Rowan saw moth light following the male’s movements.
When it returned, the female emitted a second object, set it down.
Smaller, simpler in form. Rowan glanced at it, looked back up at the female demon, wishing for, wanting desperately a face to speak to. “I don’t understand,” she said, louder. The smallest male startled at her voice, stood jittering, arms twitching. The speckled male reached and caught one of its narrow-fingered hands in two of its own. The act calmed the smaller one. The two remained, behind the female, holding hands.
Waiting.
And for no reason she could explain, the speckled male’s action calmed Rowan as well. She looked down at the case-object again, then slipped her talisman into its kerchief at her belt, and stooped to one knee to see better.
It was a half-dome, with four blunt-pointed extrusions on top, one much longer than the others. Rowan picked it up, turned it over awkwardly, one handed; the other hand still held her weapon.
She learned nothing. She looked up. The demons still waited. With nothing else to do, Rowan set the object down again.
The males froze briefly; and she had seen that response before. But the female did not. It retrieved the case-object, which was again passed to a male, carried off into the cave.
Shuffling its feet, the female rotated its body a quarter turn and emitted a third object. The males jerked their arms in surprise.
Four inches tall, stooped and folded, one small knee up, the other on the ground; one tiny hand dangling from an arm whose elbow rested on a knee, the other hand clutching a small, straight stick—
Rowan felt the shock like a blow, found herself breathing shallowly through clenched teeth.
It was herself. Tiny, perfect, eerie; a little manikin, with the folds in the clothing, the characteristic cant of the head, all in miniature, all green in the green, shuddering light.
The hair on the left side of its head was disheveled. Dazed, Rowan reached up and smoothed her own hair. Its eyes were shadowed. Rowan did not pick it up, nor lean closer; she did not want to see, as she knew she would, her own features on its thumbnail face.
The demons waited.
“I don’t understand!” Rowan spoke helplessly, uselessly. “What does this mean?”
Meaning. It must mean something.
Herself. This is you.
“I can’t do as you do, I can’t make something. I have nothing to give you.” She looked at herself, at her two hands.
An object with meaning. “Here.” Quickly she pulled off her left glove, dropped it, pulled off her silver steerswoman’s ring, set it on the ground.
“There. That means me!”
As one, the demons threw up their arms, high.
The spray-vents were exposed. Rowan found she had risen to her feet, was standing with arms flung out to each side, and she thought: Now I will die.
No spray came.
The arms writhed, waved, thrust upward, fingers curling and uncurling, as demon bodies swayed, hands straining toward the ceiling, or perhaps the sky beyond the ceiling: all the creatures, together, caught in the throes of some overpowering demon emotion.
Rowan had seen this before in the amphitheater. It continued, long.
Then slowly, the demons subsided to stillness, but for the smallest male, still trembling in the aftermath.
Then, using a hand on the side of its body away from Rowan, the female reached down— and, Rowan assumed, produced another object. The males came closer to it.
The steerswoman could not see it from where she stood, and so, quite simply, she stepped up to and around the female. One of the males shuffled aside to make way for her.
It resembled nothing that she recognized.
She stood beside the female. The air was faintly cool around the creature and smelled, in the dank earth scent of the cave, like the great ocean. Rowan felt no fear, only utter, helpless incomprehension.
The female produced another case-object, touched it to the first; it adhered instantly. Another and another; the structure became more complex. The males reacted with lifts of surprise, gentle waves of interest; the speckled male positively jittered excitement.
The female stopped. Human and monsters stood, the one in silence, the others in what passed in them for silence, regarding the object.
Then, all at once, the males scattered like a flight of bats, off into the angles and crannies of the cave.
Rowan was alone with the female. She turned to it, feeling she ought to say something, make some sort of comment; but it would be useless. She went to retrieve her ring, but it, and the eerie manikin, were both gone.
The males were not absent long. At a dead run, one returned and placed a case-object beside the last one the female had produced. A small object, simple in form. Then another male returned, and another, each with an object of its own. The speckled male returned with apparently none, then pulled six out of its maw, squatting on the ground and using all four hands to arrange them in a neat semicircle. The other males crowded around, jockeying for a clear view, and swayed as they studied the collection, clearly impressed.
The female produced one more, also small but with a complex surface. Then it rotated itself a quarter turn, and reached down as if to emit another.
No result.
Naturally, Rowan thought; made of egg-case covering. The female demon would certainly not have an unlimited supply of the material. It must run out at some point.
And the males— they had no supply whatsoever.
Something shifted inside the steerswoman; she felt an internal drop, a moment’s vertigo, as if she were on a ship that had unexpectedly crested some great wave.
She felt she ought to be surprised; she was not. She said only, “Oh, of course.” And then, like a slowly growing light, a slowly growing joy. “Oh, of course!”
The female shifted its previous case-object on the ground, reached out with two other arms, and selected from among those arranged by the males. It placed the three in an arc. The demons stood, considering the arrangement.
And— Rowan turned to look— out in the low cave’s dim shifting light: hundreds, thousands of case-objects. Piles of them. Collected, sorted, according to what system or logic she did not know—
Words. Language. The demons were speaking.
Or the female was; the males could not produce the egg-case material. They could not speak, not as females did. They must use words already uttered by others— like saving a note written by a friend on the chance that someday one might wish to say the same thing oneself …
But why store them here? Why not in a den, or a series of dens, convenient?
Secrecy. Rowan had seen a male killed for speaking in public. Rowan was in a secret place.
But this female was privy to the secret, seemed to encourage the males; certainly she aided them, handing them the words that she spoke, for the males to add to their secret hoard.
Sharing. Sharing knowledge.
The steerswoman gave a weak laugh. “I think that you and I are very much alike.” She turned back.
Then she said, “Or perhaps not.”
The female, unfortunately, was engaged in mating, employing two males simultaneously on opposite sides of her body.
Rowan stood watching the unerotic coupling, winced in embarrassment. “Well,” she admitted, “customs do differ.”
41
What is this place?”
She turned; he stood, head ducked under the low ceiling, his left hand steadying himself against the stone above. Moths fluttered about the hand, a dizzying little pocket of light. He flinched when they flew close to his eyes.
Rowan held up the object she was examining. “Does this look like a tanglebrush to you? It rather does to me, from a certain angle.”
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He gazed about, toward the dimmest recesses where no moths stirred. “We’re underground.” Light moved too quickly across his face for her to discern his expression.
“Yes.” She returned the object to its grouping, rose, brushed the ceiling to improve the light. “But we’re not home free yet.”
“I’ve never seen this.” Janus looked blankly at the collections of case-objects— of utterances— that lay all across the cave floor. “This is one of their places.”
“Yes.” She studied him in the brighter light. He seemed a bit dazed, a bit unsteady on his feet; still, quite an improvement. She took his arm, led him back toward the alcove. “Did you find the food I left by you?”
“No …”
“You should eat. And drink more.” She sat him down, handed him the cheese. He reached for it with his right hand, stopped, took it with his left.
She felt his forehead: slightly warm but dry. She knelt beside him, gently felt his right arm again, down to the wrist. “I don’t understand why this hand isn’t horribly infected.” She had not dared to unwrap it; she was certain to cause pain, and there was not water enough to clean it properly.
“I put it in the bug pond.”
“ ‘Bug pond?’ A pool of water, surrounded by rocks?”
“They brought me there every day. They couldn’t bring me water, so they brought me to the water.”
“Well, you seem to have done some good by it.” She released the arm, shifted to sit facing him. “Do you want to explain to me what you said earlier?”
“How far are we from the city?”
Only people built cities. “I see that you’ve figured out that these demons are not animals.”
He looked at her blankly, but he said, “Unfortunately.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Why unfortunately?”
“If this is one of their places, they’ll come here soon. We can’t stay long.”
“We won’t be staying long. What do you mean by ‘unfortunately’?”
“I can walk now, if we go slowly. You still have the talisman. Let’s go now.
She sighed, but it was through her teeth. “Janus, one of us must answer the other’s questions— really, one of us must. And since it can’t be me, it must be you.”
“I can’t bother with your rules.”
“They’re not rules, they’re principles. You know that.” She forced her anger down. “I want to understand you, I truly do, but you’re not giving me any help.” He did not reply. She rubbed her forehead, pushed back her hair, reminded herself that he had undergone a horrific experience, the like of which she could scarcely imagine, and she could not expect him to behave in an entirely rational fashion.
Then she realized, suddenly and appallingly, that she could imagine it, easily: if, months ago, she had acquired a live demon to study, it might well have received similar treatment at her hands.
She said, “They thought you were an animal.” He did not reply. That was why the female demon had let them go, Rowan understood; Rowan herself must have done something that demonstrated clearly that she was no animal.
Janus was watching her closely. She could not help asking, “Why you? They could have captured any number of humans to study. Why come all the way to Alemeth— ” She suddenly saw that they must have used a blinded demon to capture Janus. “The talisman— ” And a blinded demon had guarded him in the den; another, or the same one. “But why— ” They must have feared that his immunity would somehow return; they did not know that it could not; they did not know at all of what Janus’s original protection had consisted.
“What is this?” She picked it up from the stony floor, held it up between them in the dim, shifting light. “Other than a word, or a sentence? How can they obey it unless they perceive it? How can they perceive it and not know what it is?”
He did not look at it but sat merely regarding her, expressionless. “They’re not like us,” he said.
She flung out one arm. “I do believe I’ve noticed that already! But what is it, what does it say?”
Then he did look at it, brows knit slightly. And then, head tilted a bit, he gave the question such calm, unhurried, careful, thoughtful, and complete consideration that Rowan understood that his mind was far less stable than she had assumed. She must deal with him cautiously.
Eventually, he arrived at his conclusion; the discovery seemed to please him. He smiled at her. “I believe,” he said, “that it means ‘Holy, holy.’ ”
Silence. Then, “I see.” She carefully set the talisman down again. “And … have you managed to decipher any other statements?”
He looked at her as if she were simple. “I don’t want to talk to them,” he told her.
“I see …” she said again. She decided not to argue the point. “Now, Janus, listen carefully. I am going to get you home. There’s a ship waiting for us at the Dolphin Stair. All we need to do is cross the Demon Lands … and you know that will take some time. You have to cooperate with me, you have to do what I say, and everything will be all right.”
“It’s impossible to cross the Demon Lands.”
“No it isn’t,” she pointed out, carefully patient. “You’ve done it, several times. And I’ve done it.”
“No, you haven’t. You only think you have.”
She was a moment finding a reply. “Well … you’re free to correct any misconceptions I might have. In fact, I’d welcome it. But I do know how to get us back to Alemeth.”
“Good. Let’s go now.” He started to rise.
“No.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Not yet. This cave is located inside the city. They’re patrolling the streets outside; I’ve checked recently. There are a lot of them, and they’re being very systematic. I don’t want to get into a situation where we might become surrounded. We’ll wait until they relax their guard. Then we’ll leave.”
He studied her face. He took a breath as if to speak, released it wordlessly. He nodded.
“Good.”
He discovered the food in his hand, began eating, with rather less urgency than Rowan expected from one as obviously starved as he was. She did not consider this an encouraging sign. She wondered how much to tell him in his present uncertain condition; but she must say something, and soon. “Janus, shortly demons will be coming here. You mustn’t be afraid.”
He continued eating. “We have the talisman.”
“That’s right. And if you like, you can stay behind it while they’re here.”
She watched as the implication of her statement dawned on him. Eventually he said uncertainly, “And you must, too …”
She took a breath. “That depends on which demons they are. A demon helped us escape from that den you were held in; and she and her mates are still helping us. They’ve brought us food, twice now— from my camp or your nearest cache, I suspect.” He looked aghast at the cheese in his hand. “I believe we can trust them,” Rowan said.
“Trust?” He dropped the food, clutched her shoulder. “Rowan, if they’re feeding us— ”
“Please, calm down— “
“— then this is just another prison!”
“A prison we can walk out of, any time we like? We still have the talisman— ”
“All they need to do is block off the entrance— ”
She placed her hands on his shoulders, held his gaze, spoke distinctly, stressing each word, “But they haven’t done so.” He subsided, but his eyes remained wide. “We’ve been here two days,” Rowan went on, “and the other demons are still searching the city for us. Tan and the males are keeping our presence secret.” She saw astonishment on his face, spoke before he could ask. “I call her ‘Tan’ for her color. I must call her something, if only in my own mind.”
He dropped his hand, sat stiff under her grip. “Skies, Rowan, you’ve named the thing!” he spat, with sudden fury.
“Yes! Yes, I have. In fact, I believe she’s named me, as well. We had a very interesting conversation while you slept— I’m
sorry you missed it. Apparently, I was both brilliant and eloquent.” She released him. “Unfortunately, I have no idea what I said.”
He was so long silent that she grew disturbed. Eventually he said only, quietly, “You fool.”
“Why? Why am I a fool, Janus?” No reply. “Very well, then. But this fool, as you call her, is going to get you out of this alive.”
Demon-voice.
She expected him to startle or show fear, but his expression did not alter. He held her gaze.
She glanced toward the entrance, shifted to sit beside him, placing the talisman in front of them both. “They’re probably dropping off more food. Here— ” She had cut two more finger-ends from her right glove; she found ‘ them, passed them to him. “Put these in your ears; it will help with the noise.” He did so, awkwardly, one-handed. They waited, she watching the light grow and fade as the moths reacted to the demons’ movements; and he, when she glanced back, watching her, his face unreadable.
The voices went on: three of them. They continued too long to be a simple food drop. Rowan began to wonder if these demons were strangers to her, and she grew concerned. She found her sword, gestured to Janus that he was to remain where he was, and took the talisman. Stooping, she slowly walked forward, carefully keeping Janus protected directly behind her.
The light and voices had moved deeper into the cave, among the case-objects. Rowan approached near enough to recognize three of Tan’s males.
She returned to Janus, placed the talisman before him, and indicated that he was not to move. He made no response, neither by gesture nor nod. She left him.
Three bizarre creatures— the strangeness struck her even more forcefully now that she knew that they were intelligent. She had, while Janus slept, spent a long time considering the idea, examining it, with a deep and very steerswomanly delight …
But seeing the demons again, she realized that in her own mind she had subtly altered their shapes, adjusting them toward the human form, even to the addition of a shadowy suggestion of a head above the arms. How could you guess what a person was thinking without eyes to watch, a face to read?
No heads, no faces. Columnar bodies. Arms sprouting from the top.
The Lost Steersman (Steerswoman Series) Page 44
