“She cannot tell me anything directly,” Elana answered quietly, kneeling beside Di’nay at the fire. “There is something that moves to the west, but it is not clearly a threat to us.”
Diana’s mouth thinned faintly. She glanced at Garrison’s motionless body. Splitting defenses was not usually the best maneuver, but if they were attacked here odds were they would be killed or Garrison would have to be left behind. Neither proposition was attractive.
She reached for the long bow and stood. Sometimes there could be advantages in taking the offense.
Elana rose slowly. “Take Eitteh with you.”
“You are certain?”
“Yes,” Elana said decisively, “if you are not back by dawn, I’m coming after you.”
The words hovered on her lips, but Diana didn’t say them. She would have left Garrison to pursue Elana. It wasn’t fair to demand Elana do differently.
Elana grasped her sleeve and the Amazon paused. She smiled and reached up to gently kiss Di’nay’s cheek. “May the Mother ride your winds.”
Diana nodded and hugged her quickly. “We won’t be long.”
The night swallowed them, their movements fading like the rustling of a breeze. She suddenly felt chilly, and Elana pulled her cloak more tightly about her. It was such a temptation to send her Sight out to decipher those distant shapes, but it would not do. She shivered again in the winter’s coldness and turned abruptly to Garrison. If she was chilled, he would be near frozen.
† † †
The night was an eerie mixture of blue-gray and inky black. The two moons had risen, but the overcast scattered their light. The twins were virtually unseen and yet the sky was aglow.
There were three of them, moving in and out of the shadows on the rocky trails on the upper plateau. The eitteh rumbled, drawing Diana’s attention to the swirling black of horns ahead of the three. They were hunting a slender goat of some kind.
Diana clicked off the infra-red toggle and folded her binoculars away. The shimmer of metallic thread in their cloaks meant more than hunting. They were Maltar’s men, and the only reason they had for being in this area was to find Elana and the Council’s spirit, Garrison. It also meant that someone had guessed they might be seeking the Wayward Path. So far, hopefully, it was only a guess. If the Seer had managed more, there would have been a confrontation already.
Patiently, stealthily Diana worked her way up the steep trails. The eitteh stayed on foot and followed, cautious of the hungry hunters with their bows. They parted as the trail forked where the men before them had divided, attempting to corner the goat ahead.
The eitteh bounded up the higher trail, and Diana drew her sword. The path twisted too much; she did not want to go around a rock and face a readied archer. In such close quarters her sword and the shaft of her bow would serve as better weapons.
She paused, pressed against the sandy rock as the sound of shuffling feet moved before her. The twist in the rock hid her, and she edged nearer.
The snarling of the eitteh and the scream of a man echoed through the night.
Hooves scrambled and the goat-like beast bolted. A shout rang out. Diana flattened herself into the wall just as the animal came charging past. Heavy boots hurried forward and Diana stepped out, sword singing.
His arrow and bow were halved. His gaunt frame stood rooted in fear, the skin browning beneath a neatly trimmed beard as he imagined goat had become man; no one could fight a Changling’s magic.
He twisted, groping for his sword as he began a retreat. With a scream of his own, he found he had stepped back into nothingness, and he tumbled from the edge.
She pressed herself into the stone and shadows again, listening. There was no sound of man or eitteh. Somewhere there lurked at least one more soldier. Diana prayed for all their sakes that the eitteh had been successful in her kill.
He met her, sword drawn, on the broader ledge ahead. The canyon echoed with their first blow. She dropped her bow, feeling the weight and skill of this man. Her blade swung and he met it well, stepping into the moons’ light, and Diana realized he outweighed her by two — and all of that was muscle.
He swung and she jumped aside with the clash. He outreached her too. Her strength more than matched, she warned herself to move slowly. He had the advantage of leverage with his height. Instinctively her feet tested the ground beneath them, hoping the footing was solid.
Silver flashed and she parried, orange fire sizzling the length of her blade, and suddenly she remembered her sword’s lifestones. Perhaps they were more evenly matched than she’d thought!
“Changling Dog!” he snarled, a thick Ramains accent cutting his ragged breath. “None of your tricks will save you here!”
She side-stepped his swing and they squared off again.
Diana ducked and swung for his midriff. He dodged and backed away. He grinned and she heard a throaty growl. A piece of her mind noted he did not recognize her as Elana’s companion; he too thought her to be some magical Changling. She counted them lucky — perhaps the Seer still did not know about her.
He swung, she blocked and recovered, attacking with an echoing cry. Their blades bounced apart with a splay of sparks, leaving his sword nicked.
Two-handed she descended, pounding again and again in a flaming torrent of orange and blue, and he retreated a step, blocking blow for blow. The metal of his sword shivered fire with each contact, and his face grew grim as he felt his weapon cracking.
In desperation he lunged and she slid her blade against his, swirling the flat shaft around and deflecting the blade as hers drove true. With a grunt his body took the point, and they stared at each other. His sword dropped. She went to pull free, but with a savage growl the man hurdled himself forward into the steel. Snatching her cloak, his feet stumbled. Dying, he fell from the ledge — dragging Diana with him.
Falling, his grasp opened as the rock pounded against his hand and they separated. Something raked her thigh and Diana grabbed for anything! Gloved fingers tore into the soft sandstone… her toes driving hard. A half-dead, tenaciously clinging bush jutted out, and she held onto it for dear life.
† † †
Elana stood with a silent cry on her lips. The night sounds blew undisturbed through the air, but her heart raced unchecked.
Di’nay!
She grabbed her crossbow and darts. Without a glance at Garrison she ran.
† † †
Think a little now, Diana told herself. Below, use your feet, what’s there?
Nothing. The rock slopes inward.
All right. Open your eyes. What’s in front of you? Can’t tell… bends around like the ledge above. The roots in her hands were thin and slick, but so far they weren’t slipping. They weren’t slipping. That was good. There was time to think.
To the right… what’s behind to the right?
Her face scraped against the rock as she dared to turn, but her eyes made out nothing but blackness. Blackness?
She peered harder. There should be gray light or a cliff immediately above to block out that light. A cliff might give her something to sit on.
Not quite from above, she realized. It was more of a hole than an outcrop. But it would do.
Slowly she shifted her weight, foot probing… seeking something for her boot to scuff into. Carefully, she found a niche for her toe, then a hand extended… the branch quivering as she let go. The rock crumbled beneath her searching hand, then held — a single fingerhold… and then another. Quarter inches… slivers of cracks… her crawling fingers found and held to them each… her boots slid, scrambling, and then balanced her weight on their very edges… and she moved. Time hung suspended… but she moved.
The shadows drew over her face. She felt the coldness more acutely. It was her imagination, she chided herself, and crept on. She had nothing to spare for ancient fears in this moment — it was merely cold… and she was nearer. It gets to be night and you expect it to get colder, the darkness means night and cold… fingers
dug where there was no hold and instead, created one… it was going to be all right. This blackness meant safety… it was not like the other.
Her palm fell inward as ground opened, and the hole seemed like a cavern after the lifetime of nothingness she had been clinging to. She pulled herself forward and rolled inside, praying there were no cucari-itype creatures in the back. But the wind had carved this hole into the softest layers of the sandy stone, and it was not a sheltering place for bird or cucarii.
It was truly colder here. The wind whipped around the distant canyon wall and drove straight into the niche. Diana pulled her cloak up and folded her tall frame into the narrow box.
Her feet braced against the stone although her legs were bent almost in half. Her head had enough clearance only when she managed to scoot down onto her tailbone. But the rock was firm and the cloak took the bite out of the wind. She breathed and thanked the Goddess for all favors large and small.
† † †
Diana shivered and woke. Without opening her eyes she knew where she was, and instinctively she resisted the urge to stretch. Her body had grown so stiff that she doubted it really would have helped anyway.
The wind whipped against her, and she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.
Suddenly the breath caught in her throat — her stomach twisted in fright. Blackness… total blackness. With rising terror, her fingers dug into the rock around her.
Think. Breathe. The rocks twist — the shadows are thick. The moons are down — the sun will come… an hour or two, no more than that. Never more than that. This is Aggar… Aggar. Elana — Elana and eitteh will be searching. When it’s light, they will come. The tension in her stomach, very slowly, began to ease. She clung to that thought — Elana will come.
And yet, this cramped, dark place was not so very different from that other. The haunting memories pressed forward again. She buried her face in her hands, feeling herself shiver. Not now, please!
The images faded, but the fear would not, and resigned, Diana tipped her head back against the rock. She gathered in a deep breath. She knew the best way with this horror was to walk through it — not deny it. It had been a long, long time since she’d been forced to face this fear so tangibly. She almost believed she’d forgotten how.
But it was only a memory. She had lived through the reality, and Oma Hanna had been right — she had proved she could live through much by that survival.
Her breathing became more even, and she let her eyes close. Her hand grasped the gritty edge as a reminder of the physical limits of her safety, and slowly Diana turned to face her childhood ghosts.
It had been a spring day. They were out riding, entertaining themselves as the adults worked. A fine, sunny day in a tall-grassed meadow where they had shared a picnic lunch.
Lunch? A feast. Estelle had outdone herself, but now she was busy cleaning dishware and packing away the wagon. The other adults, Ivory and her two colleagues from Shekhina moonbase, were off with their machines doing whatever adults did to test the ground.
Morgan and Teresa had begged to ride the horses. The two gentle giants had been as eager as the twelve-year-olds. And because they were well accustomed to the antics of these youngsters, Estelle had set them loose under the children’s hands. How she had pleaded with Morgan to let her ride too. At barely four, the youngest of the three children there that day, Diana had so wanted to sit behind her cousin and canter through the yellow grass. Laughing Teresa had lifted her high upon that golden animal and told her to wrap her arms tightly around Morgan’s waist.
Under the sunny sky they had raced and laughed, never thinking of the history of the place. A history of men mining… of drilling and careless markings. In the distance the women worked, tracing the old shafts, testing the ground to decide if the earth was rich enough to support crops. In the time before the Sisters’ settlement, ore barges had landed here, burning the soil acidic. The children were far from the areas that had been mined — so distant that Ivory was lost to their sight.
And then the horse stumbled. Not badly, but Diana’s legs were too small to grip the broad back, and she lurched to the side, pulling Morgan with her.
The ground opened up beneath them with a terrible crack, and wood suddenly splintered. Beneath Morgan’s weight, Diana was pushed into the ground and dropped into the darkness.
Screaming, Morgan rolled, clutching at the crumbling edge. But she was bigger and stronger and the hole too small for her. Teresa went for Estelle, and Diana remembered Morgan calling — frantically calling for her, and then there was nothing.
She woke stiff and in pain and realized she was twisted and unable to move. The darkness around her was thick, and she began to cry, but from somewhere she heard Terri’s voice calling.
Terri and Moma too — somewhere. She cried out for them. Telling them she was here — and that she couldn’t move.
“Listen to me, Diana!” Terri’s voice cut through the four-year-old’s frightened tears. And in that determined but loving tone she always used when Diana was to follow instructions, she demanded, “Diana, are you listening?”
“Yes….” It was a feeble answer.
“I can’t hear you, Diana. Are you listening?”
She summoned up a little more energy and yelled, “Yes!”
“Do you remember how you wanted to do things like an Amazon, Diana?”
Voices mumbled above, and Diana found later that her mother had been protesting, but silence came again, and Terri’s voice was back.
“Like an Amazon, Diana. Remember?”
“Yes!”
“Well, you’ve just started your first adventure, Darlin’. Can you be a brave little Amazon and help us get you through? Come on, I know you can do it.”
“It’s dark!” And darkness to a four-year-old can be more terrifying than all the laser guns Maltar would ever rejuvenate.
“I know it is, Diana. But you’ve got to do this. All right now?”
“Will I be a real Amazon?”
“You sure will be, Darlin’. And we’ll celebrate it with cocoa and cream, how’s that?”
“With strawberries?”
“Strawberries aren’t in season, Honey.” Her honesty was something that made Terri special — she never promised what couldn’t be. Her niece had trusted that even then, especially then.
“Okay! Cocoa and cream.”
“Good girl, Diana. I knew you would help. Now can you tell me what it’s like where you are, Diana? Are you sitting or standing or what?”
With a frowning intensity, the child had concentrated on that. She felt the cold dirt around her, but there was no clammy feeling on her neck, and she tried to turn her head a little. Her foot could wiggle some too, but there was nothing around it. She sniffled some of her tears away, and she remembered Terri’s stories of being out in space with no up or down. It must feel a little like this, not knowing where you were.
“Diana, are you still there?” It was her mother’s voice, and the child responded to the panicky edge in it — she had heard it the night Teresa had been taken to the witches with her broken leg.
“I’m all right, Moma. I’m just thinking. Terri said Amazons are s’pose to think first.”
“That’s right, Honey,” Terri’s voice jumped in enthusiastically. “Can you think out loud now. So I can hear what you’re saying?”
“My foot moves and my neck is cold. But there’s no dirt on my neck.”
“Are you sitting or what, Darlin’?”
“Kind’a.”
“Describe it to me, Diana. Use your words. Where’s the dirt?”
“All around me!”
“But not on your neck?”
“No. I’m crunched up. Moma! It hurts.”
“I’m right here, Diana.” Her mother’s voice had grown stronger. Kate was not a woman prone to hysterics and her child needed her now. “Tell me where it hurts.”
“All over. Real achy. It’s so small here.”
“I know its ha
rd, Honey. But we’re all here, and we’re going to get you out. It’s going to take a while, but we’re coming.”
“Diana?” Terri’s voice reached through the darkness again. “Are you stuck where you are? Or are you sitting against a wall?”
“I’m stuck. I’m scared.”
“Okay, it’s okay to be scared. Amazons are scared all the time, but you have to keep thinking, all right? You can’t let it stop you from thinking.”
“All right.”
“Good, Honey. You’re doing good — ” There was a loud rumbling noise above her then, and she couldn’t hear if Terri was talking or not. The dirt around her began to shift, and she shrieked as she dropped another few feet. The sound above stopped abruptly.
“Diana!” Terri and her mother yelled frantically. “Diana!”
The pitter-pattering shower stopped, and she coughed a little. Terri said to think out loud. Tell her what was happening.
“The dirt’s falling down!”
“Did you fall too, Diana?” And her voice seemed even further away.
“Yes. Yes!”
“Okay. It’s okay. We’ve got a big machine up here, Diana. We were going to bring it closer to try and dig you out.”
“But it’s all coming down!”
“Is it still falling?! Diana, is the dirt still falling on top of you?”
It wasn’t, she had realized. “No.”
“Good. Okay… Diana, your moma is going to talk to you for a while, okay? I’ve got to go see Ivory about the machine now.”
“Don’t make it fall on me again! Please Terri… don’t!”
“I won’t, Sweetheart. I promise we’ll try not to do that again, okay? You’re still my brave young Amazon?”
“I’m thinking, Terri. Like you said to.”
“Good girl.”
“I’m proud of you, Diana.” It was her mother’s voice. “It’s going to be a long wait now, Darling, but we’re going to get to you. Do you want to hear a story or something?” Her mother had begun with her favorite tale and continued for hours. And then Estelle had come and she had heard of the ancient journeys of Huitaca and Awehai.
Shadows of Aggar (Amazons of Aggar) Page 40
