by Gene Wolfe
Quetzal crossed the room and barred the door, then threw off his sodden robe. Even in this downpour the tree was safer, though he could fly.
The looming presence of the cliff slid over Auk as he sat in the bow, and with it a final whistling gust of icy rain. He glanced up at the beetling rock, then trained his needler on the augur standing to the halyard. "This time you didn't try anything. See how flash you're getting?" The storm had broken at shadeup and showed no signs of slackening.
Chenille snapped, "Steer for that," and pointed. Chill tricklings from her limp crimson hair merged into a rivulet between her full breasts to flood her naked loins.
At the tiller, the old fisherman touched his cap. "Aye, aye, Scaldin' Scylla."
They had left Limna on Molpsday night. From shadeup to shadelow, the sun had been a torrent of white fire across a dazzling sky; the wind, fair and strong at morning, had veered and died away to a breeze, to an occasional puff, and by the time the market closed, to nothing. Most of that afternoon Auk had spent in the shadow of the sail, Chenille beneath the shelter of the half deck; he and she, like the augur, had gotten badly sunburned just the same.
Night had brought a new wind, foul for their destination. Directed by the old fisherman and commanded to hold ever closer by the major goddess possessing Chenille, they had tacked and tacked and tacked again, Auk and the augur bailing frantically on every reach and often sick, the boat heeling until it seemed the gunnel must go under, a lantern swinging crazily from the masthead and crashing into the mast each time they went about, going out half a dozen times and leaving the three weary men below in deadly fear of ramming or being rammed in the dark.
Once the augur had attempted to snatch Auk's needler from his waistband. Auk had beaten and kicked him, and thrown him over the side into the churning waters of the lake, from which the old fisherman had by a miracle of resource and luck rescued him with a boathook. Shadeup had brought a third wind, this out of the southeast, a storm-wind driving sheet after gray sheet of slanting rain before it with a lash of lightning.
"Down sail!" Chenille shrieked. "Loose that, you idiot! Drop the yard!"
The augur hurned to obey; he was perhaps ten years senior to Auk, with protruding teeth and small, soft hands that had begun to bleed almost before they had left Limna.
After the yard had crashed down, Auk turned in his seat to peer forward at their destination, seeing nothing but rainwet stone and evoking indignant squawks from the meager protection of his legs. "Come on out," he told Silk's bird. "We're under a cliff here."
"No out!"
Dry by comparison though the foot of the cliff was, and shielded from the wind, it seemed colder than the open lake, reminding Auk forcibly that the new summer tunic he had worn to Limna was soaked, his baggy trousers soaked too, and his greased riding boots full of water.
The narrow inlet up which they glided became narrower yet, damp black rock to left and right rising fifty cubits or more above the masthead. Here and there a freshet, born of the storm, descended in a slender line of silver to plash noisily into the quiet water. The cliffs united overhead, and the iron mast-cap scraped stone.
"She'll go," Chenille told the old fisherman confidently. "The ceiling's higher farther in."
"I'd 'preciate ter raise up that mains'l ag'in, ma'am," the old fisherman remarked almost conversationally, "an' undo them reefs. It'll rot if it don't dry."
Chenille ignored him; Auk gestured toward the sail and stood to the halyard with the augur, eager for any exercise that might warm him.
Oreb hopped onto the gunnel to look about and fluff his damp feathers. "Bird wet!" They were gliding past impressive tanks of white-painted metal, their way nearly spent.
"A Sacred Window! It is! There's a Window and an altar right there! Look!" The augur's voice shook with joy, and he released the halyard. Auk's kick sent him sprawling.
"Got ter break out sweeps, ma'am, if there's more channel."
"Mind your helm. Lay alongside the Window." To the augur Chenille added, "Have you got your knife?"
He shook his head miserably. "Your sword then," she told Auk. "Can you sacrifice?"
"I've seen it done, Surging Scylla, and I got a knife in my boot. That might work better." As daring as Remora, Auk added, "But a bird? I didn't think you liked birds."
"That?" She spat into the water. A fender of woven cordage thumped, then ground against stone. Their side lay within a cubit of the natural quay on which the tanks and the Window stood. "Tie us up." Chenille pointed to the augur. "You, too! No, the stern, you idiot. He'll take the bow."
Auk made the halyard fast, then sprang out onto the stone quay. It was wet, and so slimed that he nearly fell; in the watery light of the cavern, he failed to make out the big iron ring at his feet until he stepped on it.
The augur had found his ring sooner. He straightened up. "I-I am an augur, Savage Scylla. I've sacrificed to you and to all the Nine many times. I'd be delighted, Savage Scylla. With his knife…"
"Bad bird," Oreb croaked. "Gods hate." He flapped his injured wing as if to judge how far it might carry him.
Chenille bounded onto the slippery stone and crooked a finger at the old fisherman. "You. Come up here."
"I oughter-"
"You ought to do what you're told, or I'll have my thug kill you straight off."
It was a relief to Auk to draw his needler again, a return to familiar ground.
"Scylla!" the augur gasped. "A human being? Really-"
She whirled to confront him. "What were you doing on my boat? "Who sent you?"
"Bad cut," Oreb assured her.
The augur drew a deep breath. "I am H-his Eminence's prothonotary." He smoothed his sopping robe as if suddenly conscious of his bedraggled appearance. "H-his E-e-eminence desired me to l-locate a particular y-y-young woman-"
Auk trained his needler on him.
"Y-you. Tall, red hair and so forth. I didn't know it was you, Savage Scylla." He swallowed and added desperately, "H-his interest was ha-wholly friendly. H-his Eminence-"
"You are to be congratulated, Patera." Chenille's voice was smooth and almost courteous; she had an alarming habit of remaining immobile in attitudes no mere human being could have maintained for more than a few seconds, and she did so now, her pivoting head and glaring eyes seemingly the only living pans of her lush body. "You have succeeded splendidly. Perhaps you identified the previous occupant? You say this woman," she touched her chest, "was described to you?"
The augur nodded rapidly. "Yes, Savage Scylla. Fiery hair and-and s-skill with a knife and…"
Chenille's eyes had rolled backward into her skull. until only the whites could be seen. "Your Eminence. Silk addressed him like that. You attended my graduation, Your Eminence."
The augur said hurriedly, "He wished me to assure her of our submission. Of the Chapter's. To offer our advise and support, and declare our loyalty. Information H-his Eminence had received indicated that-that you'd g-gone to the lake with Patera Silk. His Eminence is Patera's superior. He-I-we declare our undying loyalty, Savage Scylla."
"To Kypris."
There was that in Chenille's tone which rendered the words unanswerable. The augur could only stare at her.
"Bad man," Oreb announced virtuously. "Cut?"
"An augur? I hadn't considered it, but…"
The old fisherman hawked and spat. "If'n you're really Scaldin' Scylla, ma'am, I'd like ter say somethin'." He wiped his grizzled mustache on the back of his hand.
"I am Scylla. Be quick. We must sacrifice now if we're to sacrifice at all. My slave will arrive soon."
"I been prayin' and sacrificin' ter you all my life. You an' your pa's the only ones us fishermen pay mind to. I'm not sayin' you owe me anythin'. I got my boat, an' I had a wife and raised the boys. Always made a livin'. What I'm wantin' ter say is when I go you'll be losin' one of your own. It's goin' ter be one less here for you an' ol' Pas. Maybe you figure I took you 'cause the big feller's got his stitchin' gun. Fact is,
I'd of took you anywheres on the lake soon as I knowed who you was."
"I must reintegrate myself in Mainframe," Chenille told him. "There may be new developments. Are you through?"
"Pretty nigh. The big feller, he does anythin' you want him, just like what I'd do in his britches. Only he b'longs ter Hierax, ma'am."
Auk started.
"Not ter you nor your pa neither. He maybe don't know it hisself, but he do. His bird an' that needler he's got, an' the big hangersword, an' his knife what he tells he's got in his boots, they all show it. You got ter know it better'n me. As fer this augur you're gettin' set ter offer me up, I fished him out O' the lake last night, and t'other day I seen another fished up. They do say-"
"Describe him."
"Yes'm." The old fisherman considered. "You was down in the cuddy then, I guess. When they'd got him out, I seen him look over our way. Lookin' at the bird, seemed like. Pretty young. Tall as the big feller. Yeller hair-"
"Silk!" Auk exclaimed.
"Pulled out of the water, you said?"
The fisherman nodded. "Scup's boat. I've knowed Scup thirty year."
"You may be right," Chenille told him. "You may be too valuable to sacrifice, and one old man is nothing anyway."
She strode toward the Window before whirling to face them again. "Pay attention to what I say, all three of you. In a moment, I'll depart from this whore. My divine essence will pass from her into the Sacred Window that I have caused to be put here, and be reintegrated with my greater divine self in Mainframe. Do you understand me? All of you?"
Auk nodded mutely The augur knelt, his head bowed.
"Kypris, my mortal enemy and the enemy of my mother, my brothers, and my sisters-of our whole family, in fact-has been mischief-making here in Viron. Already she seems to have won to her side the meager fdol this idiot-What's your name, anyhow?"
"Incus, Savage Scylla. I-I'm Patera Incus."
"The fool this idiot calls His Eminence. I don't doubt that she intends to win over my Prolocutor and my Ayuntamiento too, if she can. The four of you, I include the whore after I'm through with her, are to see to it that she fails. Use threats and force and the power of my name. Kill anyone you need to, it won't be held against you. If Kypris returns, do something to get my attention. Fifty or a hundred children should catch my eye, and Viron's got plenty to spare."
She glared at each man in turn. "Questions? Let's hear them now, if there are any. Objections?"
Oreb croaked in his throat, one bright black eye trained warily upon her.
"Good. You're my prophets henceforth. Keep Viron loyal, and you'll have my favor. Believe nothing Kypris may tell you. My slave should be here shortly. He'll carry you there, and assist you. See the Prolocutor and talk to the commissions in the Juzgado. Tell everyone who'll listen about me. Tell them everything I've said to you. I'd hoped that the Ayuntamiento's boat would be in this dock. It usually is. It isn't today, so you'll have to see the councillors for me. The old man can bring you back here. Tell them I mean to sink their boat and drown them all in my lake if my city goes over to Kypris."
Incus stammered, "A th-theophany, S-savage S-s-scylla, w-would-"
"Not convince your councillors. They think themselves too wise. Theophanies may be useful, however. Reintegrated, I may consider them."
She strode to the damp stone altar and sprang effonlessly to its top.
"I had this built so your Ayuntamiento might offer private sacrifices and, when I chose, confer with me. Not a trace of ash! They'll pay for that as well.
"You." She pointed to Auk. "This augur Silk's plotting to overthrow them for Kypris. Help him, but show him where his duty lies. If he can't see it, kill him. You've my permission to rule yourself as my Caldé in that case. The idiot here can be Prolocutor under similar circumstances, I suppose."
She faced the Window and knelt. Auk knelt, too, pulling the fisherman down. (Incus was kneeling already.) Clearing his throat, Auk began the prayer that he had bungled upon the Pilgrims' Way, when Scylla had revealed her divine identity. "Behold us, lovely Scylla, woman of the waters-"
Incus and the fisherman joined in. "Behold our love and our need for thee. Cleanse us, O Scylla!"
At the name of the goddess, Chenille threw high her arms with a strangled cry. The dancing colors called the Holy Hues filled the Sacred Window with chestnut and brown, aquamarine, orange, scarlet, and yellow, cerulean blue and a curious shade of rose brushed with drab. And for a moment it seemed to Auk that he glimpsed the sneering features of a girl a year or two from womanhood.
Chenille trembled violently and went limp, slumping to the altar top and roiling off to fall to the dark and slimy stone of the quay.
Oreb fluttered over to her. "God go?"
The girl's face-if it had been a face-vanished into a wall of green water, like an onrushing wave. The Holy Hues returned, first as sun-sparkles on the wave, then claiming the entire Window and filling it with their whirling ballet before fading back to luminescent gray.
"I think so," Auk said. He rose, and discovered that his needler was still in his hand; he thrust it beneath his tunic, and asked tentatively, "You all right, Jugs?"
Chenille moaned.
He lifted her into a sitting position. "You banged your head on the rock, Jugs, but you're going to be all right." Eager to do something for her, but unsure what he should do, he called, "You! Patera! Get some water."
"She throw?"
Auk swung at Oreb, who hopped agilely to one side.
"Hackum?"
"Yeah, Jugs. Right here." He squeezed her gently with the arm that supponed her, conscious of the febrile heat of her sunburned skin.
"You came back. Hackum, I'm so glad."
The old fisherman coughed, striving to keep his eyes from Chenille's breasts. "Mebbe it'd be better if me an' him stayed on the boat awhile?"
"We're all going on your boat," Auk told him. He picked up Chenille.
Incus, a battered tin cup of water in his hand, asked, "You intend to disobey?"
Auk dodged. "She said to go to the Juzgado. We got to get back to Limna, then there's wagons to the city."
"She was sending someone, sending her slave she said, to take us there." Incus raised the cup and sipped. "She also said I was to be Prolocutor."
The old fisherman scowled. "This feller she's sendin', he'll have a boat o' his own. Have ter, ter git out here. What becomes o' mine if we go off with him? She said fer me ter fetch the rest back ter see them councillors, didn't she? How'm I s'posed ter do that if I ain't got my boat?"
Oreb fluttered onto Auk's shoulder. "Find Silk?"
"You got it." Carrying Chenille, Auk strode across the quay to eye the open water between it and the boat; it was one thing to spring from the gunnel to the quay, another to jump from the quay to the boat while carrying a woman taller than most. "Get that rope," he snapped to Incus. "Pull it closer. You left too much slack."
Incus pursed his lips. "We cannot possibly disobey the instructions of the goddess."
"You can stay here and wait for whoever she's sending. Tell him we'll meet up with him in Limna. Me and Jugs are going in Dace's boat."
The old fisherman nodded emphatically.
"If you wish to disobey, my son, I will not attempt to prevent you. However-"
Something in the darkness beyond the last tank fell with a crash, and the scream of metal on stone echoed from the walls of the cavern. A new voice, deeper and louder than any merely human voice, roared, "I bring her! Give her to me!"
It was that of a talus larger than the largest Auk had ever seen; its virescent bronze face was cast in a grimace of hate, blinding yellow light glared from its eyes, and the oily black barrels of a flamer and a pair of buzz guns jutted from its open mouth. Behind it, the black dark at the back of the cavern had been replaced by a sickly greenish glow.
"I bring her! All of you! Give her to me!" The talus extended a lengthening arm as it rolled toward them. A steel hand the size of the altar from which she h
ad fallen closed about Chenille and plucked her from Auk's grasp; so a child might have snatched a small and unloved doll from the arms of another doll. "Get on my back! Scylla commands it!"
A half dozen widely spaced rungs of bent rod laddered the talus's metal flank. Auk scrambled up with the night chough flapping ahead of him; as he gained the top, the talus's huge hand deposited Chenille on the sloping black metal before him.
"Hang on!"
Two rows of bent rods much like the steps of the ladder ran the length of the talus's back. Auk grasped one with his left hand and Chenille with his right. Her eyelids fluttered. "Hackum?"
"Still here."
Incus's head appeared as he clambered up; his sly face looked sick in the watery light. "By-by Hierax!"
Auk chuckled.
"You-You-Help me up."
"Help yourself, Patera. You were the one that wanted to wait for him. You won. He's here."
Before Auk had finished speaking, Incus sprang onto the talus's back with astonishing alacrity, apparently impelled by the muscular arm of the fisherman, who clambered up a moment later. "You'd make a dimber burglar, old man," Auk told him.
"Hackum, where are we?"
"In a cave on the west side of the lake."
The talus turned in place, one wide black belt crawling, the other locked. Auk felt the thump of machinery under him.
Puffs of black smoke escaped from the joint between the upright thorax and long wagon-like abdomen to which they clung. It rocked, jerked, and skewed backward. A sickening sidewise skid ended in a geyser of icy water as one belt slipped off the quay. Incus clutched at Auk's tunic as their side of the talus went under, and for a dizzying second Auk saw the boat tossed higher than their heads.
The wave that had lifted it broke over them like a blow, a suffocating, freezing whorl that at once drained away; when Auk opened his eyes again Chenille was sitting up screaming, her dripping face blank with terror.
