“You –You miserable little bird –“ she started but it was back, landing on her head this time, wings flapping, talons raking, hooked-beak jabbing, and she shrieked and shouted, flailing her arms at it to no avail.
Kerris grabbed the hilt of the sword and took one step in her defense but was knocked off his feet by a rush of silver. Together two cats hit the ground. A dagger was pressed hard against his throat.
“Prepare to meet your gods, dog,” growled a familiar voice.
“Ah, well, those gods might be a-slamming some heavenly doors tonight …”
“You,” Ursa snorted. “I thought you were dead.”
In the darkness, Kerris grinned. “Sorry to disappoint, love. Tried. Didn’t take.”
She grunted, rolled off him and onto her knees, peered through the darkness at the tigress. The falcon had stopped its “attack”, was now content simply to sit atop the young woman’s head like a hat. Fallon looked at her, baleful and confused.
“This isn’t Path,” she moaned.
“Path is dead,” said Ursa. “That’s Mi-hahn. She’s an idiot.”
“It’s a good thing she’s not sensitive,” said another voice, and the Seer stepped out of the shadows. He smiled at her. “Kahlilah.”
And the bird took off as she rushed into his arms.
***
The Seer had started the fire. He hadn’t needed the char, nor did the damp wood seem to bother him. He had simply put his hands over the pile they had accumulated, set it sizzling as the water burnt off and soon after there were flames, with little more than a thought. Kerris was most impressed. Fallon Waterford, however, was more curious than ever.
“So you died?”
“Yes, stupid girl,” growled the Major. “I said that three times.”
Fallon ignored her. “And somehow you came back?”
“I don’t know how, Kahlilah. But I am here.”
“And you can do things, Alchemist things.”
“Well,” he made a face. “I’m not convinced that it’s Alchemy…”
“But you can start fires, move water, change things…that’s more than you could do before, right?”
“Yes, Kahlilah. More than I could do before. But in point of fact, I don’t think I ever tried.”
Leaning against a tree, arms folded across her chest, the Major snorted again.
Fallon edged closer. “And your pelt, not to pry or anything, but um, you used to have really ugly scars. It looks, um, well it looks…”
“Not so ugly,” grumbled the Major.
It was Kerris’ turn to snort.
Sireth smiled under the blindfold. “It appears that death has healing properties.”
“But not your eyes?”
No one snorted now.
“Ah, sadly, no. My vision is more impaired than ever.”
She swallowed, knelt squarely before him. “Okay, tell me again how.”
He shook his head. “It is simply wrong. All wrong. Blurred and distorted. I cannot focus and it makes me ill.”
She nodded. “Do you trust me?”
“With my life, Kahlilah.”
“Close your eyes.”
He sighed but obeyed. Reaching up, she slid the blindfold up and over his head, tossed it aside. Apparently death had not healed all the scars, for the one across his brow and cheek was intact, a vivid white line to remind him of a previous life. She cupped a hand over each eye.
“Okay, we’re gonna play a game.” She pulled the hand covering his right eye away. “Open your eyes.”
He took a deep breath, did what was asked. Blinked several times, then smiled.
“Yes!” he exclaimed. “Much better! What have you done?”
“Try it again. Close your eyes.” And she placed her hand back, waited for him to obey, before one again dropping the hand that covered his right eye. “Now open.”
“Yes! Perfect. Please, tell me what you have done.”
“Hush now, I’m not finished. One more time, just to make sure. Close them again.” He did, and she promptly cupped the right eye and removed the hand covering the left. Now she was the one to take a deep breath.
The Major was staring.
“Okay, now open them.” And the Scholar bit her lip to wait.
The brown eye opened, blinked, looked around. “Yes,” he said. “It’s the same. Just like before. I can focus. Everything is sharp, not blurred. Perfect. Thank you.”
And as he talked, she slowly dropped the right and sat back.
“Ah no,” he groaned. “No no no. It’s all wrong. All wrong. Damn…” And he pressed his palms into his eyes and his tail lashed the ground.
“Blurry,” she said.
“Yes,” he growled.
“Like you’re seeing double?”
“Exactly. Like I’m seeing double. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be…it’s not…” His voice trailed off.
The Major crouched down to watch.
Slowly, his hands fell away.
Mi-hahn, sitting on a branch high over their heads, let out a chirrup and cocked her young head from side to side.
“Oh my,” he whispered, as he blinked and blinked again. His breathing came quicker. “Oh my, oh my…”
He glanced from the tigress to the snow leopard and back again. He raised his hands, pulled them away, drew them closer. Blinked and blinked again, and suddenly, tears sprang into them, two eyes that could see.
“You were healed,” Fallon began, as she wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked happily back and forth. “Completely healed. But you had seen with only one eye for so long that you had forgotten what it was like to see with two. It simply felt…”
“Wrong…” he whispered again.
“Yep. Wrong. I dunno, it may take some time but I think you’ll get used to it.”
He nodded now, for his throat was tight and he could not speak. He reached out and clasped her hands smiling at her through his tears.
The Major stood up, breaking the spell of the evening. “Time for sleep,” she announced. “Go to bed. Everyone.”
“Major! There is no way I can sleep! I can see, Major! I can see!”
“Yes, yes, you can see. You will still be able to see tomorrow. We have a long journey and I have no desire to be losing time because of your exhaustion. Now sleep.” She lashed her tail once, ending the conversation. “I will keep watch.”
Sireth benAramis lay down but his heart was racing and he could not keep his eyes from his hands, the trees overhead, the stars. He thanked his wife and daughter, Petrus Mercouri and the rest of the Council and even, to his surprise, Sherah al Shiva, wherever she was.
Ursa Laenskaya did not sleep, but watched over her charge with a heart heavy and conflicted, and she resented the Scholar for her insight and worth.
Kerris Wynegarde-Grey did not sleep but pondered his own heavy and conflicted heart and felt utterly lost, worthless and miserable.
Of the four of them, only Fallon Waterford was able to sleep, and she dreamt that she was the happiest she’d ever been in her life.
***
He could not sleep.
The water from this morning had been cold, and therefore effective in taking down much of the swelling in his face, and it had actually been refreshing in a way he could never have imagined. Water was essential for drinking, for washing articles of clothing and irrigating crops. He had never considered it much beyond that. Unfortunately however, it had also softened the drying flesh on his head and hands, awaking the pain that had eased from searing to simply terrible. His jaw was stiff, likely broken and now healing wrongly, and he couldn’t feel his tail. The water hadn’t helped with these.
Solomon’s soft snores echoed in the cavern, only partially muffled by the crackling of the fire. His brother had gone to find the Seer - his brother and the Scholar, and he had been left behind to be tended by Solomon. Once, he used to command legions of men, lead them to and from Imperial postings, send them to and from battlefields. Now he w
as left behind to be cared for like an old man, or an invalid. For the first time in his life, he had been left behind.
He found he simply could not sleep on his stomach.
Kerris slept on his stomach. Only little boys slept on their stomachs. Women slept on their sides. Men slept on their backs. It was the way of things, and he was now forced to be a little boy, for his bloody, bloody head could not find comfort in the laying down of it. Even now, as his face rested on his arms, the keffiyah spread out like a mane across his back, his head threatened to split open, and in point of fact, he wished it finally would.
He wished he were dead.
He had called for it many times over since the dogs, and most especially at night, when all he could do was think, and he wished once again for the darkness of the soul. But now, it was his own voice that raged the loudest, and always, always at night. He wished for claws to slit his own throat. His wished for fingers that could grip the short sword that his brother had left for them. He wished for the hardness of heart to simply walk out and off the mountain that kept him captive like a bird in a stone cage.
He sat up, rubbed his eyes with his palms, tentatively dabbed his face with tender pads. Yes, the swelling had indeed gone down. He supposed he should be grateful for that, and he glanced over to where Solomon slept. On his stomach. Naturally.
Through the crevice in the mountainside, he could see stars, and he slowly, painfully pushed himself to his feet. The cloth of the keffiyah fell across his shoulders, much like his hair had done, and he wondered what it looked like, this fabric mane. But it kept the flies off and gave him something to cover the shame.
“Where you going, Captain?” came a low, sleepy voice by the fire.
“Outside. I cannot sleep and I need some air.”
“You’re not gonna kill yourself, are you?”
“No, Solomon. I am not going to kill myself.”
“Promise me you’re not gonna kill yourself.”
“I promise.”
“On your honor.”
I have no honor, he was about to say, but he bit it off before it left his mouth. He clenched his jaw, fought the spasm of pain that it sent, released a long, deep breath.
“Say it. On your honor. Say it.”
“On my honor.”
“Okay. Good night then.”
And the Ancestor rolled over onto his side. Kirin shook his head and squeezed through the crevice.
He was met by golden eyes and the smell of incense.
***
They made the Seer ride the pony, although his legs dragged on the ground. His balance was not good, and it was clear that it would take some time for him to adjust to his new way of seeing. The pony did not seem especially impressed by his new rider, and would frequently turn and snap his teeth at the long, long legs that caught on the stumps and rocks and rises of the forest floor.
Kerris kept the pace steady and fast, and they broke only once for a mid-day rest and a meal of dried fish. It seemed he wanted to get back to the cliff that housed his brother, and he would do so before nightfall, else leave them all behind. No one grumbled, but it was almost all uphill, and Quiz, carrying the Seer, was quite winded by the time they reached the incline that led to the mountain. He was pleased to be set free for the night, and disappeared into the depths of the forest almost immediately.
Kerris could not be stopped and he too disappeared up the slope, not waiting for either Major, Scholar or Seer. The Seer, for his part, needed considerable help with the climb, for he would frequently misjudge his footfalls, or his handgrips, and slip or stumble or lose footing. It was only the steadying hands of both Scholar and Major who managed to keep him from toppling off the steep slope and down to the rocks below.
They could hear shouting long before they reached the top.
Inside the cavern, the Captain was sound asleep.
“What do you mean, you found him like this??!!” Kerris was on his knees beside his brother, and Solomon was pacing, hands flailing helplessly in the air.
“Outside. I said outside! On the ledge. He went out for air, and I found him unconscious this morning!”
Fallon slipped in beside them. Kerris was unpredictable in this state.
“How could you let him go outside? What if he fell, or jumped, or slipped? You said you would take care of him! You said –“
“Kerris, wait,” and Fallon laid a hand on his sleeve. The grey lion closed his mouth, but he was clearly furious. She reached for the Captain’s hands. The fingers were bandaged now with linen, thin white strips, fine and neatly bound. “Solomon, did you do this?”
He threw up his pelt-less hands in the air again. “No! That’s what I’m trying to tell him! I found him, just like this. His fingers have been bandaged, his tail bound, some of his wounds stitched, and his head has been rubbed with salve. Look here, this vial was laying beside him this morning.”
Kerris snatched it from his hands. It was familiar. They all knew to whom it belonged.
Solomon knelt down. “And he’s been drugged. Look here, at his pupils…” He propped open the Captain’s lid to show pinpricks of black. “I don’t know who would do this, or even why –“
“We do,” growled the Major.
“But whoever did this has done him a huge favor.”
They all stared at him.
“Look, this person bandaged his fingers. There is no way in hell they’re gonna heal without being bound like this. It was perfect timing, right after the soak in the river had softened the flesh, so now he has a chance for them to heal properly. This person also left a ton of medical supplies… Here look…” The bag was also familiar, a sack of mysterious ointments and noxious potions. He reached in. “There’s needles and threads, pills and tonic, fabric, strips of leather. But the main thing…” He straightened up, released a deep breath as if to compose himself. “The main thing is the fact that he is sleeping.”
Kerris clenched his jaw. “The powdery white thing.”
“What?”
“For pain.” He snatched the bag from Solomon’s hand, dug around inside before pulling out a smaller pouch. He emptied it into his palm. “They work amazingly well, but they make you very, very sleepy.”
“He needs to sleep,” said Solomon. “So if it works, great.”
“What if she’s done something to him?” he asked, frowning. “What if he wakes up and can’t remember anything? What if he doesn’t wake up at all?”
“Kerris…” Fallon leaned forward, but the grey lion rose to his feet.
“Remember what she did to us? To all of us? This is not ‘a favor.’ It is a dangerous, dangerous thing. I trusted you, Solomon. You said you’d take care of him!”
Fallon also rose to her feet but Kerris had taken several steps backwards before turning and escaping from the cavern and into the night.
Solomon sighed and looked up at the Major and the Seer.
“Hey,” he said with a weary smile. “Good to see you two again. Did I ever mention Plan B?”
***
She could see flashes of lightning in the distance, leaping from cloud to dark cloud and lighting up the night sky like fireworks. The wind had picked up, and she wondered if he really did control the storms, or was simply controlled by then.
He was sitting at the very edge, staring out at the sky, arms draped across his knees. She glanced down at his hands, ensuring that no sparks were gathering there as she approached and she contented herself to sit beside him until he found his words.
“She’s calling,” he said finally, in a voice that men usually reserved for lovers.
“Well,” she grumbled, pushing locks of hair from her face. The wind was very strong. “Just tell her ‘not tonight, you’re busy.’”
“I’m busy…” He did not turn to look at her. “He can’t die.”
“He won’t. Sherah wouldn’t do that. He’s just sleeping.”
“I really don’t want him to die.”
“I know.”
&n
bsp; “I killed my father, you know.”
She’d known that, of course, but it was the first time he’d admitted it. According to Ursa, it was a thing gossiped about for many years ‘within the ranks’, in secret whispers and hushed corners, and she didn’t really know what to say.
“I didn’t mean to, but I did. I was in my eighth summer. I called the lightning and killed him, right out from under me.”
“I’m sorry,” was all she could say.
“I killed my cousin too. Jiin-mark. I think it was my twelfth summer, but I’m not sure.” He still hadn’t looked at her, kept his eyes fixed on the flashes in the distance. “We were on a tour of the temples of Ahnkor’Whath, and I heard some water calling from the rock. We weren’t supposed to leave the group, we weren’t supposed to climb the stones, but we did, and I struck the stones with a stick I was carrying and the water exploded out like a hot spring. Knocked Jiin-mark right off the ledge. He fell and broke his neck, he did. Just like that.”
“Kerris…” She knew where this was going.
“In the fall of my sixteenth summer, I killed Sunitha Windemere-Planck. She was a nice girl, a lioness maybe more tiger than me. We got along so very well that our parents were making plans between them. She was from a nice family – not Royal like ours, but nice enough, and they were afraid no one would want her because she liked to run and explore and throw rocks and climb trees. And my mother was afraid, well, you know, but anyway, we got along famously and that summer I built a boat. I had heard stories of the Chi’Chen boats, and how they sailed along on the water, so I built one in secret, and we took it out in the Imperial fisheries, and it began to sink and she drowned. I didn’t know she couldn’t swim. Didn’t even think to help her. I was busy trying to save my damned boat…”
He lifted his hand as if to study it. Sparks were appearing out of the air, buzzing and crackling around his fingers. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time.
“I left home then. Didn’t go back for almost five years. They didn’t miss me. Not one bit.” The sparks were now arching from fingertip to fingertip. “I did find Quiz then, however. Quiz and the lightning. My only friends.”
The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom Page 71
