The angular Chi’an stopped at the bottom of the ramp, grimacing when he saw the blood-stained captain coming down off the wounded ship.
“It’s only because of you that we’re not dead,” Magnus threw out as he walked past the gaping engineer and started across the bright expanse of concrete. “We lost the Appin.”
Crossing the wide empty space reserved for the admiral’s ship, he headed for the specific entrance into headquarters where he knew Shi Mia would be waiting. Bursting through the outer door, he ignored the turned heads and staggered expressions, searching the sea of horrified faces until he saw the tiny biologist’s familiar form hurrying in his direction.
“There’s something for you in the forward cargo hold," he stated flatly. “It’s all yours.”
Mia’s eyes widened and she bowed several times, uttering words of gratitude before turning to wave at her colleagues who waited in a clump a short distance away. Magnus nodded and stalked away through the crowd, intent on making a quick exit from the building without any further encounters.
He made his way home on automatic pilot, passing scores of faces that might have been familiar had he bothered to look. When he made it through his front door, he closed it behind him and collapsed against the wood, bracing himself for the sound of his wife’s voice.
“Mag?”
Mara flew into the hallway and was about to launch herself into his arms when she saw his bloody jacket and the look on his face. “What happened? Is Al—?”
“He’s dead. They’re all dead. Everyone on the Appin.”
“Oh god, no!” she exclaimed as her face twisted with grief.
“I would be, too, if it weren’t for a quirky, brilliant engineer who amped up our shields.”
Mara covered her mouth and watched him through stricken, tear-filled eyes, desperately trying to hold back the tears. Knowing the dam was about to break, Magnus reached out to pull her close, but she jerked away and stepped backward, shaking her head sharply. “Magnus, you reek of blood!”
With an impatient growl, he ripped off his jacket with the worst of the stains and walked toward her, drawing her into his arms as she broke down crying. He cradled her head, stroking her hair while her body shook with sobs. As Mara’s wrenching grief over losing her twin seeped into his bones, the numbness inside shifted into a profound, slow burn. The sounds and images from the bridge just a short time ago seared through his mind and a thunderhead of fury spread from his gut up into his chest.
“We were so close to taking that son-of-a-bitch down,” he snarled against her hair. “And then his fucking dogs flew in from fucking nowhere and pounded the hell out of us!” he spat viciously, his fingers digging into her skin. “We just can’t compete with that!”
Mara sucked in a sniffling breath and lifted her head, looking up in confusion at his dramatic change in tone.
“Salaal was so pissed at Miros,” he went on, caught up in the vivid events and feelings rising to the surface. He released Mara from his rough grip and distractedly walked away, moving on into the middle of the living room while his words poured out in a stream. “It was just a god-damned game to that bastard and he was mad as a hornet when it didn’t go his way—like a little kid. Millions of lives are at the mercy of that pathetic megalomaniac and all he cares about is winning some perverted contest with another male! What a dick!”
Mara followed her husband down the hall and stood at the edge of the room, looking on with a tear-streaked face while Magnus raged.
“He doesn’t give a shit about lives. Hell, he lost at least nine warships full of people out there today. This,” he said, picking up a fold of his bloody shirt, “was from one of his own men whose body we picked up afterward in the debris. They’re disposable! He’ll just go buy more!”
Magnus ran a hand through his long hair as he paced back and forth in the space beside the dining table at the near end of the room, unaware of Kahl’s tiny figure in the shadows of the stairwell where the boy stood on the bottom step, peering tentatively around the corner at his ranting father.
“To top things off, the bloody high council just told us they’re cutting funding for new ships,” Magnus grated in agitation. “We’re down to ten ships without Al. Just this morning, he was there with me, telling those fools how hard it was to stay alive and now he’s dead. He’s dead!” he shouted, raising trembling fists up close to his chest as he stood and shook with anger.
“You’re upset—you need a deathwalker to help you cope with this!” Mara exclaimed with growing concern, taking a step toward her husband. “Let me call—”
“Nooo!” he shrieked, shaking his head furiously. “That’s not what I need! I need to kill that fucking reptile before he kills anyone else!”
“Magnus, this isn’t you. You’re not yourself—”
With a scream of rage, Magnus grabbed the edge of the dining table and threw it into the glass cases of artifacts against the back wall, shattering the fronts in a loud, deafening crash.
Mara ran to her small son whose face had gone white with fear. “Magnus, stop!” she cried. “You’re scaring him!”
Whirling around, the big man froze, staring at the tiny boy and blinking in bewilderment. Kahl’s eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears, but he stepped out from behind Mara and walked over to his towering father, reaching a small hand out to touch Magnus’s thigh. “You have to stop, Da, or you’ll be lost,” he said softly, looking up into his father’s stormy blue eyes.
Slowly Magnus sank to his knees in front of his son. He lifted a shaking hand and ran a finger down the side of the boy’s face as Kahl’s tears spilled over his cheeks.
“Don’t be lost, Da,” he whispered.
The room swam as Magnus’s eyes filled with tears. Blindly reaching out to scoop his frail son into his arms, he began to sob. Mara’s fingers slipped into his hair and she pulled him close, cradling his head against her chest.
“Oh god, I watched his ship explode,” he sobbed, unable to hold back the maelstrom of grief. “It was horrible! I couldn’t stop it! He’s not coming back, Mara. He won’t ever come back.”
Mara stroked his hair as he cried, long and hard, purging himself of the worst of the pain while Kahl nestled against him, his small hand patting his chest reassuringly.
“It’s so damned frustrating,” Magnus said at length when he was able to speak again. “We’re out there, trying to hold back the beasts, and people like Al and Hayk get swallowed by the maw. Ulu’s staring into its gullet right now. People here don’t have any idea what’s coming.”
“No, they don’t,” Mara replied softly, gently stroking his face as he let out a long, ragged breath.
“I’m tired of having to be strong, Mara. I’m just so tired.”
“I know, angel.”
Magnus let out a long, shuddering exhale and absently cuddled the boy in his arms, feeling drained and damaged, but buoyed by Kahl’s tiny form and Mara’s soothing hands. If he laid down to sleep, he was sure he wouldn’t surface for days.
“Da?”
“What, honey?”
“I’m glad you’re not lost.”
Magnus sniffed and hugged his son close. “Me, too, Kahl. Me, too.”
The last light of Sirius was bleeding from the evening sky. Kirian stood in a dark cloak at the edge of a rough stone platform jutting out from one of the lower craggy faces of Mount Tsari. Behind him, a randomly perforated stone covering rose up and over the main housing of the bell tower concealed below. Almost all of the tower’s structure was underground, hidden from visual discovery by aerial craft. A wise design, Kirian thought thankfully, not only for engineering purposes in order to utilize the crystalline veins stretching far below the base of Tsari, but to minimize the real threat of outside intervention he now faced.
The wind up the side of the great mountain came in frenzied bursts, lifting his white hair up off his shoulders and tossing it sporadically in random directions. The chilly air felt good compared to the stagnant,
dank conditions of cavern living.
Spread out in front of him as far as the eye could see was a magnificent sprawl of the highest peaks making up the northern range. The waning light reflected off the snowy heights, giving the massive shapes an otherworldly glow against the blanket of stars just starting to come out.
“It’s so beautiful,” Minla crooned beside him. Her white coat was radiant, even without her added effects, making her stand out like a jewel above the stark, rocky slope.
“It’s a tragic shame we have to leave,” Kirian replied, looking down at the serene expression covering his wife’s face. Her right hand rested over the slight curve of her belly and she let out a silent sigh.
“There will be other mountains,” she stated calmly. “Our child will be the first Makhás born somewhere else. Well, I like to think of it that way. Torma and her people did get out years ago. I’ve always imagined them alive and happy on some other world. Maybe we’ll find them, Kirian.”
“Maybe we will, love.”
Kirian silently studied his wife’s profile as she gazed out at the majestic peaks. This time he hadn’t missed the quiet pride in her voice, the loving gesture, her sigh of contentment. Our child. The melancholy he had seen in the Lady of the Bells had faded away with each passing day after she had conceived. If nothing else, he had given her this. In a sudden rush, he reached out and pulled her against him under his cloak, kissing her soundly while the wind swirled their hair in wild disarray.
“Mmm,” she purred, smiling up at him. “What was that for?”
“Just because.”
Wriggling around in his arms, she leaned back against his chest while he resettled his cloak around them both. “Have you picked one yet?” she asked, tipping her face up toward the sparkling stars overhead.
“Nah, I just thought we’d orbit for a while. It’s pretty up there.”
Minla bumped her head against his chest with playful vexation. “Kirian!”
He grinned and squeezed her tightly. “We have several possibilities. Kalden and Tenzin told me which stargates they used the most when they flew Rinzen years ago. We eliminated a few that were having Drahk problems before we were cut off, but we think our best chances will be in Altair, Atlas, or Dennár. We just won’t know until we get outside the portal and make contact. A lot can change in thirty-two years.”
“Have you tried to reach that man you saw up at Namkha?”
Kirian shook his head, focusing on the warm piece of gold pressing against his breastbone. “No. I just haven’t had time.”
Kiri, we’re almost ready down here. Selina’s call from inside the tower sounded in his mind. Niyal’s making the rounds to all five towers to hang the long ringers. He’ll wait for Arman to help him lift and hang the Cagi.
Ok, I’ll get him up here.
Kirian kissed the top of Minla’s head and opened his arms to allow her to step away. “Selina’s got the teams in place. Time to call Arman.”
Turning back around to face the rough stone tower covering, Kirian closed his eyes and reached for connection with his friend.
Arman, it’s time.
I’ve been waiting for your voice. Are the Cagi in position?
Just waiting for your expert touch.
Not a moment too soon.
Why? What’s wrong?
The Drahks have been running with vicious beasts in the streets near the central buildings. We’re ok for the moment in this quarter, but I’ve been hearing Maránd use the word ‘Makhás’ too many times for comfort when I’ve listened in over the last couple of days.
Then we’d better get moving.
Give me a few minutes, ok?
When you’re ready, lock onto me and come on through. Be prepared—it’s windy up here on Tsari.
Several moments later, the figure of the big bellmaker appeared on the stone a few feet away. Tucked within his bare arms in a threadbare jacket was a comely, robust woman with light brown hair and the lion-like colorings of the Shitza.
The woman gasped when she saw where they were and dug her fingers into Arman’s fur-covered chest. Turning her head, her wide bronze eyes landed on the tall man in the dark, wind-swept cloak and the woman in white beside him.
“White hair, Ustagi stripes—oh my god,” she blurted in a voice filled with disbelief. “You’re Makhás.” Pushing out away from Arman’s broad chest, she whipped her head up to look him in the eye. “And you? Are you one of them? Is that why you could whisk us up here like you did?”
Arman nodded, giving the woman a moment to let the ramifications sink in. She shook her head and gave his chest a small thump. “All this time you let me believe you were lazy and stupid!”
“Arman Sijía is anything but stupid,” Kirian’s deep voice rumbled, startling the woman as he stepped around her and pulled Arman into a fierce hug. “God, I missed you.”
The big man laughed when Kirian refused to let go, slapping his back with fond affection. “It’s good to see you, too.”
When Kirian finally pulled away, Arman grasped the woman’s shoulder and waved a hand out toward his friend. “Tiza, this is Kirian Vall and his wife Minla.”
Kirian slid an arm out across Minla’s shoulders as she stepped up next to him and when the cloak fell back, Tiza’s eyes took in his long violet vest and the intricate gold pendant dangling around his neck.
“You’re the Makhás yeshe,” she proclaimed with wonder. “I’ve heard all the stories. Then it’s true? The magical ships of the tigers?”
Kirian let out an exasperated breath. “Yes, it’s true. Arman, didn’t you tell her what’s going on?”
“Tell me what?” Tiza interjected with a scowl. “He said he had to leave Edu and asked if I’d come with him. When I said yes, he told me to grab a jacket and poof—we were here. Scared the crap out of me.”
At Kirian’s ferocious glare, the big man threw out defensively, “There wasn’t enough time for me to explain.”
“You’ve had three days since I contacted you, Arman, and now it’s down to the wire.”
“I, uh … didn’t want her to bail on me,” the bellmaker mumbled with a sheepish shrug.
“You should have had more faith in her than that!” Kirian snapped. “She has a right to know what we’re facing and make her own choice.” He closed his eyes in irritation before turning to Tiza. “We’ve got a few hundred people down below this mountain—we’re all that’s left of the Makhás. Chao Rong nearly wiped us out thirty years ago when we refused to hand over our ships. He bombed all the northern cities, killed hundreds of thousands of people.”
The woman’s hand flew to her mouth in horror while Kirian pressed on with what he needed to say. “We’re about to try something with the old science of the Makhás to repair the broken portal up in space that’s trapped us here. If it works, we’re leaving Lyonnae for good. If it doesn’t—the Drahks are hunting for us. That’s what Arman’s been listening for in Edu. You’re in danger just by being with us.”
“Tiza, if you … want me to take you back to Edu, I will,” Arman offered soberly, watching her face intently and bracing himself against possible rejection.
The Shitza woman looked long and hard at the big tawny-headed man before shifting her gaze to Kirian, narrowing her eyes on the Makhás leader in front of her. “Chao Rong should burn in hell for what he did to you, what he did to me. I know the terrible pain of losing people I love,” she declared raggedly, “and I don’t want to lose any more.” Reaching out to grab Arman’s hand, she squeezed it tightly and squared her shoulders, looking at Kirian with firm resolve. “The Drahks are taking over Lyonnae—none of us are safe. I’m with you, for better or worse. How can I help?”
Startled by the woman’s forthright offer, Kirian looked up at his childhood friend, watching the relief spread across Arman features. “You’ve already helped more than you’ll ever know, Tiza. Keeping him safe all these months was the greatest gift you could ever have given me.”
“I’m rather fond o
f the big lug myself, Yeshe Vall,” she replied with a warm smile. “He may be sharp, but he doesn’t listen very well.”
“No, he doesn’t, but he makes exquisite bells. Make him explain what that means.”
“Oh yeah,” she nodded with a determined look. “This man’s got daaays of explaining ahead of him.” At Arman’s sudden yowl from Tiza’s iron grip on his hand, Kirian threw back his head and laughed.
“My god, was that Kirian?” Niyal’s rasping voice drawled near the back wall. “Arman, are you going to get your sorry ass in here to help me or do I have to kick you off this mountain?”
“Niyal!” Arman turned and hurried across the platform to throw his free arm around the grinning smith, pulling Tiza by the hand along with him.
“Oh ho ho, looks like you’ve done more than just spy on the damned Shitza,” the brusk man jeered as he ran an appreciative eye over Tiza.
The bellmaker grinned at the other smith before his features drew into a look of concern. “You’re looking a little thin, man.” Turning his head sharply back to Kirian and Minla who had come up behind him, his brow furrowed in dismay. “You’re all looking thin. Have things gotten that bad?”
“Yes,” Kirian hissed. “It’s critical that we make this work.”
“Where’s Rinzen?”
“Down below in the most spectacular crystal cavern in all of creation,” he replied, raising his brows at the thought of the glorious quartz- and amethyst-lined chambers they had discovered three days ago below Tsari when they transported in to scope out the towers. “Tenzin and her shields team are on board helping Anil and Nandi get her ready to fly. Selina’s got our transport team down inside the chamber here at this tower. Your portal team is waiting with Skamár at another tower. Asti’s waiting with a group of scholars to help Niyal, Kalden’s motion team will assist him, and Senga has all of the security masters at the fifth site. Everyone’s ready to work as soon as the Cagi are in place.”
“The long ringers are all hung in each of the towers,” Niyal reported with a nod to Kirian. “Arman, I need you to help me lift the Cagi into position and make any adjustments to perfect the resonance within the towers.”
Descent of the Maw Page 15
