Shade and Sorceress

by Catherine Egan

  “When was the first time you crossed over?” asked Eliza, letting him change the subject. She didn’t want to talk about why her plan wouldn’t work, either.

  “Lah...six or seven hundred years ago. It was on a whim, aye. It had nary occurred to me that there would be anything much worth seeing or doing in Di Shang, but I was bored and thought I’d have a look. I crossed over with a Giant who’d got it into his head that he was going to become King of Di Shang. Giants are always planning on becoming king of somewhere. Whoever the Shang Sorceress was at the time, she banished him right back where he’d come from. But nobody noticed me and I found I liked being human. I began to make the journey quite a lot, after that.”

  “How old are you, Charlie?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure. Old enough that I dinnay remember a time when it didnay feel like I’d just been around forever.”

  It was odd, thought Eliza, that even knowing what he really was, it still felt so natural to talk to him as if he was just Charlie, the boy she had played with these past few weeks in the Mancer Citadel.

  “I wonder where the Mancers are now,” she said, shivering.

  “They’re prolly doing a seeking spell or waiting for the Mancers in the Citadel to check the Vindensphere and send word. Either way it’ll take them a little time, but then they’ll know where we are. So we’d better hope Nell doesnay take too long to get better.”

  “Will this cave really work?”

  “I hope so, aye,” said Charlie, with real feeling. “I’d feel bad if something happened to her. She’s just a girl.” He glanced at Eliza. “So are you, for that matter. I thought...lah, you’re nay quite what I expected from the Shang Sorceress.”

  She didn’t ask him what he had expected. Somebody who could do Magic, no doubt. Instead she asked abruptly, “Charlie, why are you working for the Xia Sorceress?”

  “I owe her a favor,” he answered tersely.

  “What do you mean? What kind of favor?”

  “It’s complicated,” he said.

  “It’s just, you dinnay seem...I mean, she’s evil!”

  “Evil depends on your point of view, aye. The Mancers want to keep all Tian Xia worlders out of Di Shang, separating the worlds forever. The end of Tian Di, in other words. Not everybody likes that idea. I like being able to inhabit both worlds, so it makes sense to side with the being most likely to overthrow the Mancers. And like I said, I owe her.”

  “But if all Tian Xia worlders could cross into Di Shang, humans would be slaves again!” said Eliza. The staple of Di Shang history education was the horror of slavery in the Early Days. “The Mancers are protecting humans.”

  “Lah, I’m nay human,” said Charlie. “What’s that to me?”

  “But dinnay you care?”

  “Look, someone is always enslaving or oppressing someone else,” said Charlie. “The Mancers know that. And humans are in on it too. Humans enslave animals, not to mention eating them. Humans oppress other humans, too. Do you want to tell me that slavery doesnay exist in Di Shang? Have you ever been to Scarpatha?”

  “No,” said Eliza hesitantly. “But the Scarpathians are nay slaves. Anyway, lah, they sided with the Xia Sorceress in the war. Against other humans.”

  “And why do you think they did that?” said Charlie. “Seems to me that wherever you look, there’s the powerful stepping all over the powerless. I just want my own freedom. I’ve nary been one for big causes.”

  Charlie’s expression of amorality depressed her, but Eliza was becoming too cold and weary to argue about it. Her teeth had started to chatter.

  “It’s too cold to be human tonight,” said Charlie. “I’m going back to wolf. I’ll keep you warm if you trust me enough to get close.”

  Eliza nodded her head, and Charlie became a wolf again. She curled against his warm body and slept in restless fits and starts until the dawn.

  ~

  Eliza dreamed she was in the Arctic. Bright ice plains stretched as far as the eye could see and the wind and snow whipped about her. She was entirely alone. She tried to walk, but her legs were rooted to the spot. Then the white tiger she had seen in the Vindensphere appeared before her, seated just a few feet away and staring at her. She stared back. There was something so familiar in its steady gaze. It tugged at something deep inside her, buried and secret.

  “I told you to bring the book,” said the tiger. “Don’t you want your father to live?”

  Eliza tried to speak. She opened her mouth but no words came. She realized with a terrible panic that she didn’t know any words at all. She had no language. She stared imploringly at the tiger.

  “I’m not known for my patience, you know,” said the tiger. It stood up and came towards her with the fearsome grace of all the great cats. It gave her hand a sniff and then licked it with its enormous rough tongue. She could see its teeth – teeth made for tearing flesh like hers. It rubbed its big head against her arm, and its fur was so soft, she wanted to bury herself in that fur, wrap it around her, she wanted to crawl inside the tiger and not have to be Eliza anymore, Eliza alone and afraid. She would just be the tiger, fearless and beautiful and sure.

  ~

  She woke with the light, terribly hungry, leaning against the warm body of the wolf. The lurid sky, rust-coloured overhead, shocked her fully awake before she remembered where she was. Her hurt arm was throbbing badly from the previous day’s exertions. The sun, fat and pale, was rising in the east and the hanging gardens of the Sparkling Deluder were faded in the southern sky. She leaped to her feet and searched the cliff face, but there was no sign of the cave from yesterday, no sign of Nell.

  “Where is she?” she cried, waking the wolf, who immediately became Charlie again. “What’s happened to the cave? I’ve let my best friend be eaten!”

  “She was really sick,” said Charlie. “It might take a while.” He squinted around at the bleak landscape. “We cannay wait here. We’re too easy to find.”

  “I’m nay leaving her,” protested Eliza, but she knew he was right. “We can hide, but it has to be somewhere close. And not in that forest.”

  “I’ll take you to the Temple of the Nameless Birth,” said Charlie. “It’s nay far. We flew over the temples when we arrived. The Faithful live there and worship the Ancients. They’ll shelter you and give you something to eat, aye. You’re on your own when we get there, though – if I change shape they’ll think I’m some kind of demon and I’m not keen on being subjected to a bunch of spell-casting and potion-tossing.” He hesitated and then added, “If the Oracle of the Ancients is there, you can even ask her for help. She’ll say no, and then we’ll go back to Di Shang.”

  “The Oracle of the Ancients?” asked Eliza.

  “She’s the one who formed the Triumvira,” said Charlie, not meeting her eyes. “The Faithful think that the Ancients speak through her. Actually a lot of beings think that and seek her out for answers. She’s a big deal in Tian Xia. I’ll come straight back and keep an eye out for Nell.”

  Eliza gaped at Charlie. “Is this some kind of trick?” she asked.

  Charlie shrugged uncomfortably. “I didnay know you when I agreed to all this. I figured you were some powerful Sorceress. It seems only fair...to give you a shot, at least. Are you coming?”

  He led her up the narrow trail to the top of the cliff. Eliza looked across the arid plains at the red domes in the distance and felt hope quickening within her again.

  “You’ll take me there?” she asked.

  Charlie did not reply, and when she looked at him she saw he had become a donkey.

  ~ Chapter 11 ~

  The donkey took her back towards the Crossing along the bottoms of dried-out gorges, out of plain view. It was a long, hot, uncomfortable ride, and she was so hungry that her stomach was cramping. The air had an acrid sharpness to it that left her throat raw, as if she’d been screaming. When the donkey emerged from a scorched ravine they were on the outskirts of the temple complex. They passed between the fields along narrow
dirt paths, and the black-robed figures Eliza had last seen from above stopped their work to watch the donkey and the girl go by in silence. They wore hoods and scarves so that only their large, pale, unblinking eyes were visible, and those eyes followed Eliza’s progress towards the temples. These must be the Faithful, as Charlie had called them. Eliza looked back at them curiously, noting that the bare trees growing in tidy rows were being tapped for sap. A strong, sweet smell came from the buckets at the base of the trees. There were smaller quantities of other crops in the fields, some of which looked familiar, like peppers and eggplant, and others entirely alien – fleshy yellow-white pods almost as big as a human head and bushes bearing shiny round clusters of reddish nuts.

  The temples were made of stone and packed red earth. From about halfway up they were perforated with a great many rounded, doorless entries. Precarious wooden walkways and stairways wound right around the outside walls. As they drew closer to the temples, the Faithful began to crowd around the donkey, talking excitedly in a language Eliza didn’t understand, reaching to touch her tunic. By the time the donkey had reached the largest temple she had a whole crowd trailing behind her, chattering and pointing. The donkey stopped at the base of the temple by one of the many stairways.

  “Now what?” Eliza asked Charlie nervously, but he remained a donkey, unresponsive. The crowd behind her laughed to hear her talking to her donkey and jostled closer. Eliza was tempted to stay on the donkey’s back, for the sea of black-robed beings all around her was more than a little unnerving, but she knew she couldn’t just stay where she was forever. So she climbed off the donkey and was immediately locked in a circle of bodies roughly her own height. One of the Faithful caught hold of her staff and tried to take it from her, tugging and tugging. Eliza clung to it with her one good arm and looked around imploringly at the hooded, scarved beings. They did not seem dangerous, but nor were they particularly friendly.

  “I need help,” she said, which caused a great commotion, but nobody seemed to understand what she was saying. “I need to talk to the Oracle of the Ancients.”

  The one who had tried to lay claim to her staff finally gave up and the crowd parted for a being whose hood was decorated with glittering red beads. She seemed to possess some authority, for the others quieted while she spoke to Eliza gently and at some length. Listening carefully, Eliza realized that she was speaking the Language of First Days, but she didn’t know enough to understand her.

  Eliza gave a helpless gesture and said, “I’m sorry. Do you speak Kallanese?”

  The being spoke again and Eliza just shook her head.

  “I want to see the Oracle,” she repeated pointlessly.

  The red-beaded being held out a hand to Eliza. Eliza looked around for Charlie and saw the donkey wandering off back the way they had come. He really was just leaving her here. There was nothing to do but follow the being, so Eliza took her hand. The crowd made way for them, and she led Eliza up the side of the temple on a rickety wooden stairway that creaked with each step. Eliza found herself tiring as they climbed, struggling to match the even steps of her guide, who was not even breathing hard. A little more than halfway up, they turned abruptly off the stairs onto a long platform, then into the temple through a low doorway and along a candle-lit corridor.

  The inside of the temple rang with the sound of singing and clapping and the shuffle of feet. They passed frescoed rooms where black-robed worshippers danced among still, bright statuettes, the air thick with smoke and incense, until they reached a large empty room with brilliant woven rectangles of carpet on the floor. Here Eliza’s guide gestured for her to sit down and at last removed her own scarf and hood.

  She was a strange-looking creature, with a wild sort of beauty. Eliza realized that the reason their eyes all seemed so wide and staring was because they were lidless, set deep in cavernous sockets. The size of her eyes was exaggerated too by the lower half of her face tapering into a sharp little chin. Her skin was papery white and black glossy hair was wound on top of her head. She touched a finger to her nose and said, “Rhianu.” Eliza guessed this must be her name, so she touched her own nose and said: “Eliza.” The being smiled and repeated, “Eliza.” So Eliza repeated the being’s name: “Rhianu. Hello.”

  Rhianu laughed and called something over her shoulder. Three others, also unhooded, emerged from another passageway. They gathered round Eliza, kneeling down and chatting with each other and smiling at her in a friendly way. One of them reached out shyly and touched her cheek, then withdrew, giggling. Another held up one of her unruly curls and they all laughed then.

  “Stop it,” said Eliza, standing up. She didn’t like being treated like a strange animal. They all drew back in alarm and Rhianu said something to Eliza rather sharply. Eliza sat down again, wary, and they stared at her with their bright, lidless eyes.

  One of the Faithful brought out a plate with bread on it and a bowl of steaming stew. Immediately Eliza forgot her anger and confusion. Her last meal had been on the Crossing, at least a full day ago, and she was famished. A cup of something sweet and milky was set on the carpet in front of her. Then they all settled around her to watch her eat, but she was too hungry to care. The stew was a rather tasteless mix of vegetables and something bean-like. She devoured it gratefully and drank back whatever was in the cup.

  When she had finished eating Rhianu patted her on the shoulder, smiling as if to say, Isn’t that better? And it was.

  “Thank you,” she said, bobbing her head in a sort of half-bow. “I’m ready to meet the Oracle now.”

  She searched Rhianu’s face for some sign of comprehension. Her expression impassive, Rhianu gestured for her to rise and follow again.

  The inside of the temple was a multi-storied warren of corridors and rooms for worship. At the very centre, a spiral stairway wound down around a heavy pillar, leading from the top of the temple to the bottom. It was so narrow that when they met other Faithful coming up they had to press themselves to the wall to let them pass. By the time they reached the bottom Eliza was dizzy from going in circles. They stopped in a little room with a basket in the corner. Rhianu took a black robe like her own out of the basket and handed it to Eliza, then stood and waited.

  “Should I...do you want me to put this on?” asked Eliza uncertainly.

  Rhianu said nothing.

  Eliza stood wavering for a few moments longer while Rhianu watched her and waited. Then, reluctantly, she put down her staff and satchel. Rhianu picked them up immediately and put them in the basket. Eliza did not like this at all but didn’t see that she had much choice. Hurriedly she peeled off her tunic and put on the robe. Rhianu put the tunic in the basket with her other things, then stepped forward to help her tie the hood and scarf on. She held Eliza by the shoulders, looking her over carefully, gave a short nod of approval, and turned and headed down a corridor that sloped sharply downwards. It grew so narrow that Eliza’s shoulders brushed the walls. Eventually it ran straight into a solid wall. Rhianu knelt on the ground before the wall, touched her forehead to the ground, and pulled up a flagstone from the ground. She gestured for Eliza to go down. Eliza peered into the black hole. A rope ladder hung into darkness.

  Every part of her wanted to say no. But she climbed down into the dark. Rhianu did not follow her.

  “Hello?” she said. No reply. She was quite alone.

  “Are you still up there?” she called, but she could hear Rhianu’s footsteps retreating now. The darkness was absolute. She felt her breathing coming fast and panicky and fumbled around until she found a wall. That was comforting, in a way, just to have something to touch in the dark. She felt her way around an octagonal room with stone walls and an earth floor. There were no doors. Doing her best to squash her fear, she sat by one of the walls and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark. But the dark grew no less, and she could see nothing at all, not even her hand in front of her face. It was a black blindness equal to the white blindness on the Crossing. She breathed, and waited and li
stened to her heart thudding in her chest. Time passed, time and more time.

  Her legs ached, so she walked around the room a bit more. The rope ladder was gone, which made her panic again, but she forced herself to sit and breathe until she felt a little calmer. She wasn’t sure if this was some kind of prison or if she was waiting for the Oracle. Surely Charlie would come for her if she didn’t return from this place; she told herself it was his job, after all, to take her to the Xia Sorceress. She tried to calm herself with this, and as the hours passed in darkness and silence, she dozed.

  She dreamed. Or perhaps it wasn’t a dream. Later, she couldn’t decide. She opened her eyes, and she was lying down in a bright bare room, alone. The white tiger from her visions of the Arctic was sitting in the doorway.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, sitting up, heart racing.

  The tiger didn’t speak. It stood and loped away, glancing at Eliza over its shoulder. Eliza rose and followed. The corridors of the Temple were dark and empty. The tiger moved purposefully on silent paws through the twisting web of hallways and then he was gone. She stood at the entrance to a small room. Inside, a candle burned before a statue of two women conjoined but splitting apart, facing in different directions. Eliza picked up the candle and carried it around the room, looking at the frescoes on the walls. She knew this story. In the first panel, a red Giant looked upon a shining planet and a tear dropped from its eye. Within the tear two human forms twined together like twins in the womb. In the next panel, two girls crawled out of the earth in a dark wood. A Mancer stood over one girl, his hand on her head, and a demon of some kind stood over the other. The final image confused her the most. A Mancer stood with a black bird tied to his hand. The demon lay dead and a white tiger bent over it, its mouth red with blood. The tiger in the picture licked its lips and said: “This is the difference between you and me.”

  “What do you mean?” whispered Eliza. The black bird in the Mancer’s hand let out a piteous cry.