“I don’t know!” coughed the jaguar. “Honestly, I don’t…”
“Yu?” asked Naranbataar as he studied the pillar. “En yu wei?”
“Oh,” said Setse and they all studied the pillar now. “Shar, look. Deer Stone…”
Running up and down the entire length were etchings. Runes, carvings, symbols that hadn’t been there before Nevye’s touch. And without exception, all the markings were those of eyes.
“Eye of the Needle, Eye of the Storm,” said Setse.
“What does that mean?” growled Kirin.
“We have a very powerful enemy,” said the Alchemist as she turned and headed for her horse.
***
There was a boom that shook the earth, causing seven thousand horses to snort and stamp, creating a thunder all their own. Kerris arced his back and despite the clear blue morning, lightning flashed across the sky. Kylan was sleeping now on a skin and Fallon swung over to her husband.
“Kerris, be still. Shssshh,” and she wrapped her arms around him. “You’re fine now. Shsshhh…”
“Eye of the Needle,” he gasped, blinking in the bright light of morning.
“Eye of the Storm,” the Seer finished. “I understand now.”
“Wait,” said Fallon and she cupped his face, peered into the blue eyes. “What’s this?”
“What?” groaned Kerris. “I just want to go to sleep now…”
She peered closer, then glanced over at the Seer.
“Look at his eyes…”
benAramis leaned forward.
“Damn,” he growled. “Check mine as well, if you please.”
The tigress released her husband and peered into the unnatural brown eyes of the Seer.
“Yep,” she sighed. “Same.”
Like a drop of ink spreading in a pot of clear water, the eyes of both Seer and Geomancer were turning black.
“In the words of the Ancestors,” Kerris propped himself on his elbows. “What the hell is going on?”
“We have a very dangerous enemy,” growled the Seer and he lashed his tufted tail. “There is indeed a Necromancer in the camp of the dogs.”
“Wonderful.”
“Can you beat him?” asked Fallon.
“I’m not sure. Can you pull the sticks, please?”
The grey lion did as he was asked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair of short sticks.
“Five and Two.” He shook his head. “The sticks are completely unreadable lately. I can’t make any sense of them. First all colours, then all numbers.”
“Five is death,” said Sireth.
“Or five is just five.”
“I think the numbers are significant,” the Seer said.
“The Magic is five,” said Fallon. “But two?”
“Woman,” said Kerris. “Or just two.”
“Two,” said the Seer. “Two. I wonder…”
And he closed his eyes and said nothing for some time.
There was only the wind on the Plateau of Tevd, the wind and the sound of seven thousand horses, four thousand cats and two thousand monkeys resting, watching, playing dice by small fires. Other than those sounds, there was only the wind.
Kerris gazed up at his wife. “You are so very beautiful, you know that?”
“Well, I’ve been told I have nice markings.”
“Don’t ever leave me.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Because the Ancestors are coming and the earth is hungry and I can’t face any of them without you.”
She grinned. “You can’t do anything without me.”
He reached a hand and drew her down, not caring that they were surrounded by seven thousand horses, four thousand cats and two thousand monkeys resting, chatting, playing dice by small fires. For other than those, they were completely alone with only the wind as their music.
***
She narrowed her eyes as she watched her husband deep in meditation and her chest tightened within her. He was so alone, a mongrel among men. So powerful but foolish in the use of that power. He could destroy the army of the Khan with a thought, she had told the monkey, and yet he restrained his power to teach the useless grey coat. To teach the Shogun-General. To teach her.
Sometimes she hated him.
And yet she missed him.
She felt her eyes begin to sting and chased it back. She was steel. Steel. The only thing that mattered in this small useless life was honour and steel. She had known this before she’d met him. She needed to remember it now.
She had been steel.
Find it in yourself, for yourself, he had said.
She had been his steel.
It is easier for a khamel to go through the eye of a needle than a proud man to enter the gates of NirVannah.
Yes, she was a very proud woman.
Sometimes she hated him. She never understood him. Always, she missed him.
She wondered how she could slip back into his bed and if he would let her.
***
It is said that all the mountains and the rivers of the world are born in Shibeth.
Kirin could believe it. This Plateau of Tevd spread forever, or so it seemed. In the very far distance, mountains gleamed blue and hazy in the thin air, and he wondered if it was a trick of the light. Shibeth was a magical place, a sacred place. He could believe even the sun and the moon were born here.
“Cradle of the Moon,” said the Oracle, her head resting on Yahn Nevye’s back.
From the back of his blood bay stallion, Kirin looked down at her.
“Can you read thoughts, sidala?”
“Not all,” she said. “Some. I hear them, not read. I not read.”
And she smiled at him.
He sighed. They were inseparable now, the Oracle and the Monk and he wondered how long it would be before they were lovers. No different, he reminded himself, than lions and sacreds and cheetahs and tigers and mongrels. Love seemed to defy caste, defy Race, even defy Kingdoms. aSiffh had taken to them like the final piece of a puzzle, had no problems with either of them on his back. Cat, dog, desert horse. Life was entirely too strange to wonder anymore.
“There are scouts coming,” said the jaguar. “Three runners from the Khan’s army.”
“How far out?”
“The Field of One Hundred Stones. A half-day at most.”
“Have you been here before, sidi?”
“What? Me?” and Nevye looked at him. It was difficult seeing him with such eyes. “No. Never. Why?”
“You speak as if you know.”
“Oh, I don’t know anything,” he said. “But I see so much more than I did before. Everything changes when you die, I guess.”
Kirin grunted, knowing the Seer would say the same.
He narrowed his eyes, spying Naranbataar far ahead on the hazy plain and felt grateful for his vigilance. For the very first time, he began to allow himself to think that Unification might be possible. It was a hard road however, he realized. First the Year of the Tiger spent polishing the glass, next the Year of the Cat traveling through the Eye of the Needle. Not many men walked this road. Not many men could.
But women, it seemed, were born on this road.
He turned to look at the Alchemist. Her head was held high as she rode. She was a proud woman, more skilled than he could fathom, as mysterious as the moon at midday. But she was not right, not herself. There was an inky blackness growing across her golden eyes. He wondered what spells she had needed to cast to bring the jaguar back from the dead, what toll the Necromancy would take on her. Just say you wish it, she had said. Would she risk such a thing for him? And if so, why?
He looked back to the jaguar.
“Just runners you see?”
“Yes, three runners. But the Ten Thousand is close behind.”
“You see them too?”
“No. Not really. Would you like us to try?”
“Us?”
“Setse and I.” And he turned in the saddle to look a
t her. “She helps me focus. Like a star lens.”
She beamed at him but Kirin thought he saw the same inky blackness beginning to spread across her one blue eye as well. Nevye’s, however, were as white as moons.
“Yes,” he said. “I would like you to try. See what you can of their actual numbers, their weapons, anything at all of their strategy.”
“Eye of the Needle,” said Setse.
“Eye of the Storm,” said Nevye.
“And tell me please what that means, when you find it.”
Kirin watched the man sit back, place his hands over the Oracle’s hands at his waist. They both closed their eyes. On her horse beside them, the Alchemist watched, blinked slowly, smiled.
He shook his head, certain he could trust no one on this road through the Eye of the Needle.
***
She could feel him approach even before she heard the crunch of his split-toed sandals on the cold hard ground.
“Ursa,” came his voice, rich with the accent of a lion, wrong for coming out of such a mouth.
She did not turn. She would not.
He smelled of woodsmoke and leather as he stood beside her to study the horizon.
“I need your help,” he said.
“I am on watch,” she said. “I cannot help.”
“I need to go to the Shogun-General and the others.”
“Why?”
“There are two Necromancers in the army of the Khan.”
“Two?”
“One is sharp, the other is strong. I cannot beat them from a distance. I need to go to them, to wrestle their minds face to face.”
“If they are strong, they will kill you.”
“They might,” he said. “Unless you were my steel.”
Her jaw tightened.
“We could fight them together,” he continued. “I destroy the mind. You destroy the body.”
She thought for a long moment.
“Where are these pathetic dog Necromancers?”
“In the tent of the Khan.”
“The Khan of Khans?”
“Yes.”
“The Khargan?”
“Yes.”
She thought for another moment.
“You want us to ride like the wind on our little desert horses to the battle front of Ten Thousand Dog Soldiers with their shrieking arrows, make our way into the tent of the Khan of Khans, and do battle with two Necromancers who are more powerful than you?”
He thought for a moment.
“Yes.”
Finally, she turned.
“Now I remember why I married you.”
“Oh please…” His eyes were shining at her. “It was the beard all along. Admit it.”
“Idiot.”
But she was smiling as she turned.
***
For some reason, the Field of One Hundred Stones made him feel sad.
There were hundreds of stones on a wide earthen mound, more stones than he cared count, most just taller than a man. But they were old and tipping and worn by wind and time. It reminded him somehow of death and he wondered if the stones were placed for the Khans of his people. The Plateau of Tevd. The place where the world was born and old men came to die.
He had selected two runners to accompany him, a red dog with a thick coat and a long-nosed cur with legs like a gazelle. They had made the Stones in good time, less than half a day but he knew it would take the Ten Thousand two. Moving such a force was problematic. The men were nearing exhaustion and the Khargan was running them hard. It would not serve them well once they met the Enemy and their bloodthirsty horses. He did not need to be an Oracle to see how such a meeting would end.
The sun was beginning his daily retreat under the blankets of his consort, the goddess moon, and he could see his breath against the colours of the sky. He looked down as his betas sat with their backs against the stones, wrapped in yak hide and drinking from their horns of wotchka. He wondered if the cats sent out runners and if they did, what they would be doing at night on a starry plain.
He had to admit he missed the Singer.
Missed the songs in her strange, elegant language, missed her golden eyes and unnatural profile. Missed the dreams of her and her long, strong hands. He knew the cats valued their Races, and so he wondered what race she was. He knew none other than lions and tigers. He had seen few cats in his lifetime, even running with the Bear.
The moon was waxing, rising above the distant mountains like the white eye in the Khargan’s tent. He shook his head. The army was suspicious and muttering and that was a dangerous thing in an army. This would not end well for any of them if the Needle and Storm swayed the Khargan’s mind.
He turned to the men.
“I will take first watch,” he said. “I will wake you when the moon is smiling.”
“Lord,” they said in unison and he could smell the wotchka from their breath.
He cast his eyes across the Plateau of Tevd, wishing he could hear the Singer just one more time.
***
Someone was touching his knee.
The Blood Fang awoke, singing out of its sheath to stop at the throat of the dog before the Shogun-General even opened his eyes.
“Forgive me,” he growled, blinking and sliding the blade back home. He was still astride Shenan and it was dark on the hilly plain. “What is it?”
“Runners,” said the dog. “Three runners by a Field of One Hundred Stones.”
“Deer Stones?”
He jerked his chin sharply in the direction of the plain where the tall chiseled stones rose out of the earth. They had been seeing them now for hours since they had created the pillar of their own but now there were hundreds, darker than dark, a forest of petrified trees.
“Ah yes,” he said. “Deer Stones. Have the runners seen us?”
The dog shrugged.
Kirin reined Shenan to a halt and the others followed suit.
“The runners are ahead,” he said, keeping his voice low. “We want to make contact and keep them alive. No bloodshed if we can avoid it. Is this understood?”
He looked at the jaguar. “This is not some kind of trap? The dogs are well-known for their strategic advances and retreats.”
“I only see the runners,” said Nevye. “The Ten Thousand are two days away.”
Kirin turned to the Alchemist. “Sidala?”
“It is strategic, sidi,” she purred. “But not the way you think.”
He shook his head. Riddles, always riddles.
“Release the horses. The dogs will have seven warriors to contend with.”
“But I’m not a warrior,” said the jaguar. “And neither is Setse. She can’t fight.”
Setse said nothing.
“She fights, sidi,” Kirin said. “Like the Snow.”
The powerful smell of incense and suddenly, a wraith appeared at his side. He had not seen her move but she was kunoi’chi. There was nothing new in that.
“There is something that may help, sidi,” she purred.
“What is it?”
“Hmm.” She smiled. “Strategy.”
She turned away but she was humming to herself in strange, exotic keys.
***
Damaris Ward did not need to show her security badges to get into the labs. She was Jiān de Seguridad, Security Supervisor for the entire district. Everyone knew her on sight. Columbia District Shenandoah was small compared to Rocky Mountain or Marathon, more relaxed. She was able to run it well, tightly but without too many complaints. All in all, she was glad she worked here.
The labs were deep underground in case of a containment breach. Above them were the compounds and exhibits and she never had much use for those. Animals were animals, all dangerous, but she knew they were visited by many of the residents of CD as often as the comm labs, maybe more. They loved to watch them play, eat, mate. And more than anything, they loved to watch them fight.
This new Super called them friends.
She trotted down the sp
iral stair, her boots echoing on the grey metal and she nodded to the guard outside the door. It squeaked as he pushed it open for her and the smell of food paste struck her nostrils. It had to be difficult for the scientists who worked here. It smelled bad and sounded worse, as birds squawked and rodents threw themselves against the walls of their pens. She looked around, surprised at the lack of staff.
“In Screens,” said the guard from the door. “Persis has gone down to the new pen. Everyone wants to watch.”
She nodded again and made her way to the room called Screens. Twelve people were crowded around three screens and they moved aside as she strode in. A man she knew only as 6 looked up at her.
“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” he said. “Persis is talking to it. In Chinese.”
She could see the linguist in contagion suit inside the quarantine cell, flanked by two guards with Dazzlers, talking to the most beautiful animal she had ever seen. It did, in fact, resemble a slim young woman with wavy hair and she was talking in a very animated, sing-song voice. Her hands moved with expression over her obviously pregnant belly. But she had a tail that moved like an animal’s tail and orange fur that was covered in black stripes. In fact, the closer she looked, the more the young woman reminded her of the images of tigers in the crystal archives. She had never seen a living one. They had been extinct for centuries, even before the originals went under.
“Where is it from?” Ward asked. “Has Sengupta asked her where it is from?”
“Some place called the Upper Kingdom,” said 6. “They came over in a sailing ship. Just the three of them.”
“Yuh, the STS took it out. I wish it hadn’t but it’s automated.” She leaned forward. “Are they from the IAR?”
“That’s what Persis thinks,” said another man. Her eyes flicked to his jumpsuit and the name Dell. “The woman speaks Chinese, Hindi, English, Mandarin, Urdu, Farsi—”
“Persis Sengupta is a linguist. Of course she speaks—”
“Not Persis,” said Dell. “The tiger. Woman. Tiger woman.”
Ward sighed, thinking.
“She came with clothes, correct?”
Dell nodded.
The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom Page 106
