Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  She pulled back on the reins and Sheesha went up on his hind legs, head high, and wings out. He beat them defiantly and screeched again. Here, inside the enclosing walls of the castle, the screech echoed, re-echoed, and redoubled. It was deafening.

  The armsmen drew back, though she knew the noise would not stop them for long. Someone shouted. “Ropes! Nets!”

  She looked back and saw Yenteel was in place. He did not look happy. Gally had gathered up the reins and put them in his hand, not that he had any clue what to do with them. This was a problem but if Shingul did not take off with Sheesha, it wasn’t her fault.

  “Gally, ride Looesa!”

  The old ziri looked up at the sound of his name, first at her, then at Gally who hesitated and stared at her. He knew he was not allowed to ride. He might not understand that it was a death sentence to do it, but he knew it was forbidden to him.

  “Look, Gally, I’m riding. You can do it.”

  More shouting. A couple of men had emerged from the building carrying a net between them. From the other direction were armsmen on either side of someone swinging a noose with a skill that showed her he knew what he was about.

  Not yet, she thought. “Gally! Quick! Get on Looesa!”

  Then Looesa called to him, with the same grunting sound Sheesha had used that morning when he had woken her during the raid. Gally looked at Looesa. The old ziri dropped his whole front body so it was along the ground, making it easy for the lad. The dragon grunted again.

  “Looesa wants you to ride, Gally, you wouldn’t say no to him, would you?”

  The confusion in Gally’s face cleared and he grinned. Moments later he was getting into the saddle, having gathered up the reins on his way.

  There was a scream from the armsmen to the front and they ran forwards with their nets. Sheesha reared and bellowed again. This time Looesa and Shingul joined in and the courtyard echoed like the mountains with their cries.

  “Gally ready!” he shouted sounding excited and happy.

  Out of the corner of her eye Kantees caught a movement. The man with the lasso had got within a dozen strides of her and the loop of rope was in the air. It flew true. Kantees was buckled into a saddle on the back of a huge creature. She could not dodge.

  Sheesha’s head whipped round and snapped on the rope. The loop dangled from his teeth. Swinging his head back the other way, the dragon ripped the rope from the man’s hands and a scream of pain from his throat. Staggering away, he pressed his palms under his arms.

  Kantees gave Sheesha a kick. “Up!”

  The powerful ziri went back on his hind legs and as his wings beat down, he leapt into the air. “Looesa! Shingul! Come!” she screamed at the top of her voice though it felt insignificant in cold air. Yet still, she heard her words echo from the walls.

  Each wing beat forced Sheesha higher, slowly at first, then picking up speed. She allowed herself a glance behind and saw the older ziri climbing too, in perfect formation. She sighed with relief. They were going to make it.

  They passed the top of the walls and she heard a whistling thrum. Then another. Arrows. They must have decided allowing slaves to escape was worse than damaging the ziri. Then a dozen more arrows whistled past. Yenteel cried out in pain.

  The sound of arrows dropped away as they passed out of range. But they were still above the castle. They needed a direction, and she had one. It was not much of a choice but it was better than no choice at all.

  She leaned forwards so that Sheesha was flying horizontally instead of upwards. Below them the castle looked so small she felt she could reach out and crush it in her fist. But she did not wish to do that. Not right now.

  She got her bearings from the river below and set their course to follow where the giant tekrak had gone, even though it had left so many days before.

  Once they were established and Sheesha needed no further guidance, she turned in the saddle to look at Gally. He was still grinning. Clearly the idea that the ziri had wanted him to ride was still a thing of pleasure to him. She envied him his simplicity.

  Yenteel was not in a good way, however. It looked as the arrow that had hit him had pinned his right arm to his chest. He was holding the reins in his other hand and he was conscious, but that’s all she could tell in the dark.

  With the blessing of the Mother, she thought, I will make all this right. Though I have no idea how.

  Eleven

  Kantees was not sure how long they had travelled, but the clouds had turned into ragged fragments and the light of Colimar reflected dirty red on their underside as the moon sank below the horizon. The plains below them undulated, and they crossed a dozen rivers. To their right were the mountains, looming and threatening as they always were. But in every other direction, the rolling hills with the occasional wooded area huddled in a valley.

  And, once or twice, the light of dwellings. They had flown over a village where smoke drifted from the chimneys of the buildings.

  She had no idea where they were or how far they had come but she could not let Yenteel suffer any longer. He moaned occasionally as the ziri were buffeted by winds, and besides, her legs were also stiff and sore. Much more of this and she would not be able to walk.

  So she let Sheesha descend and choose one of the valleys. It would have wood for a fire, water from the stream, and be sheltered from the elements.

  There were holes in her plan and she was aware of them but she had focused on getting them out of the castle since nothing else mattered if that could not be achieved. The next problem was food, not only for the riders but their mounts. She had no idea how she would feed them.

  Back at the castle they were given the carcasses of animals that they ripped to shreds and gobbled down. Even the bones were consumed after being cracked in their powerful jaws. They were so strong they could easily escape once the group had landed and the riders dismounted.

  But perhaps that did not matter. They could continue on foot.

  The dark ground came up below them, Sheesha flapped his wings hard and landed with the lightest bump. Moments later there was a cry of pain from Yenteel as Shingul came down.

  Unbuckling herself as quickly as possible she jumped down and collapsed into the soft grass as her legs failed to support her. It was damp here. Must have been raining.

  Grabbing Sheesha’s feathered wing for support she pushed herself to her feet and staggered across to the Shingul. Yenteel’s face looked ghostly in the dark as if even the colour of his skin had been drained away. The saddle harness was sticky with his blood, and only his harsh breathing told her he was not dead.

  “Gally, help me,” she said. Even with Yenteel unbuckled she did not know how she would get him to the ground without aggravating his wound. Yenteel’s tortured breath caught in his throat and he made a noise.

  “Don’t try to talk,” she said.

  Then his eyes opened and he stared at her. He tried to speak again. His free arm reached out and grabbed her shoulder. She felt herself beginning to cry and cursed herself, this was not the time.

  “Break.”

  The word was forced from him and she could see the concentration on his face as he made his failing body obey.

  “Break?”

  His eyes rolled up into their sockets and the lids closed. He slumped. Gally appeared on the other side of Shingul’s neck. His face mirrored his concern—he was incapable of any duplicity. He was sad because there was something to be sad about.

  “What did he mean?” said Kantees. “Break what?”

  “Arrow,” said Gally as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

  Kantees looked. Yes, the arrow but break it where? Then she realised if it was broken between his arm and his stomach they would be able to move him more easily.

  “Hold him so he doesn’t fall.”

  And Gally took hold of Yenteel’s other arm and his leg, while Shingul continued to remain perfectly still, lying flat on the ground so that the injured man could be reached easily. It was ast
onishing how considerate the ziri seemed to be, but this was no time to be thinking about it.

  This was going to hurt.

  She took hold of the arrow where it pierced his side. His blood made it slick. Then placed her other hand on the shaft further out, beyond where it had entered his arm.

  It’s only an arrow, she thought. Easy to break.

  Trying to keep her right hand still she pushed back with the other. Yenteel’s fingers twitched as the shaft bent, taking his arm with it. He groaned. She knew she wasn’t keeping the arrow rigid and it was moving inside him.

  She screamed and shoved hard. The wood snapped. Yenteel moaned as the pain ripped through him. She released her hands and the wood shifted back into position. They had to move him off Shingul’s back and that would hurt too.

  If only one of them were a healer and could repair the damage that was being done.

  But wishing was riding a zirichak. Except she had done that.

  There was still no healer here, the best she could do was hope the damage was not too great and he would recover. She let Gally take the weight since he was strong and he was on the side without the arrow. She pushed Yenteel’s leg over Shingul’s neck and together she and Gally laid him on the ground.

  Shingul sat back on her haunches, leaning on her wing joints, and brought her head round. She sniffed at Yenteel and opened her jaws. For one terrifying moment Kantees thought the ziri was going to take a bite out of him, just like one of the animal carcasses. But instead her tongue emerged and she licked him instead.

  Tasting the blood, thought Kantees. She knelt down beside Yenteel and pushed Shingul’s massive head away. The man was breathing and though each breath was shallow the rhythm was steady.

  She wondered what she should do next. There were horror stories about people who died of injuries when there was no healer nearby. Or allowed to die of injuries even if there was a healer available. They would lose their blood and die, or their bodies simply ceased to function. Sometimes they would rot like dead meat while they still lived.

  She shuddered at the thought. It seemed the damage was not great enough for him to simply die, but he had lost a lot of blood—Shingul was now busy cleaning her feathers of it—so if he did not die of those there was the risk he would rot from the inside. And that was the worst prospect of all.

  “Gally, take the saddles off the ziri.”

  “No chains.”

  “I know, but we must trust them not to fly away.”

  “Romain say Gally not trusted.”

  “I trust you Gally, and the ziri trust you. Looesa let you ride and put his head down for you, didn’t he?”

  “I ride Looesa,” he said and she could tell from his voice he was smiling.

  “Yes you did, as good as a master. Now get the saddles off them, they have flown hard and for a long time. They need to rest.”

  “All right, Kantees,” he said as if she had been scolding him, then went off to where the dark shape of Sheesha watched them.

  She turned her attention back to Yenteel. There was not enough light in the sky to see what she could do about the wounds. So they would have to wait until morning.

  What could she do?

  She fetched her bag and pulled out the stone water bottle. It was heavy but she preferred it to skins. There was a stream nearby, she had seen it as they descended.

  “Gally, stay with the ziri. I’m going to fetch water.”

  “Gally is thirsty,” said Gally.

  Kantees smiled humourlessly and headed for the trees. Behind her there was a grunt from a ziri and she heard one of them following her. She wasn’t going to argue, she had never been out in the open, and alone, after dark before. She had lived all her life in safety, first in the town house and then in the castle tower.

  There were animals out here in the wild that could kill you in a moment. Having a zirichak at her shoulder would probably dissuade all but the biggest.

  The ground got muddy before she reached the river. Then her foot got caught on a submerged root and she almost went over. She was rapidly coming to the conclusion that she did not like the outside. Stone walls, a fire, and a troop of armsmen for protection were much more attractive.

  Her foot went down into cold running water and a bed of soft mud. She took the stopper from the bottle and dipped it below the water. She heard the bubbles coming from it—then the lapping of the water by a giant tongue. Sheesha was drinking. It seemed he had no problem being out in the open at night.

  Kantees drank from the bottle first. It made her cold all the way down. Then she refilled it and made her muddy way back to where Yenteel lay. Gally had finished removing the saddles so she told him to lead Looesa and Shingul down to the river to drink.

  “And be careful,” she said. “It’s very muddy. Your feet could get stuck or you might fall over and get it everywhere.”

  “All right, Kantees. Come on, Looesa. Come on, Shingul.” He said it exactly the way Kantees did. This time she did smile and felt happier. He seemed to be coping with the new situation better than she was but then he didn’t have to worry about a dying man, or being chased, or trying to find Jelamie, or being strung up as an escaped slave. No healer could bring you back from that journey.

  When she was satisfied he was heading the right way, with the ziri following him, she turned her attention back to Yenteel. She found one of the saddles and managed to prop his head up. Then she opened the bottle and touched it against his mouth. Nothing. She frowned and tipped it up until the water dribbled down the sides of his cheeks. Still there was no response.

  “Come on, Yenteel, drink,” she said and peeled back his upper lip with her free hand while trying to pour the water in his mouth.

  This time he reacted and she could feel, rather than see, him swallowing. She felt pleased with herself, gave him time to deal with that mouthful of water and went through the process again.

  She repeated the process until the bottle was empty of water. She did not think she had lost too much. Let him take that into his body.

  A wave of fatigue ran through her and she almost passed out as she knelt beside him. Sheesha nudged her and she fell backwards.

  “What was that for?” she said but Sheesha did not make any noise. And she could not see what he was doing. “We have to wait for the others to get back.”

  It did not take long before Gally and the ziri returned, but in the meanwhile she was getting cold. The tension that had shielded her was wearing off. She had relaxed and with that came the exhaustion.

  They had no shelter. She looked across to Sheesha who, as the others returned, curled himself up into his sleeping position. Looesa did the same but Shingul went to where Yenteel lay and placed herself along his length and covered him with her wing.

  In the dark they melded into one mass of shadow but still Kantees stared. Shingul was protecting him and keeping him warm. Like a mother. Like the mother Kantees had never known. Her eyes became moist once more and she sniffed to clear it.

  “Time for bed, Gally.”

  “My bed is far.”

  “Yes it is, so you will have a new bed.”

  “You have a new bed?”

  “Looesa is your bed.”

  “Looesa?”

  Kantees found his hand in the dark and led him to where the zirichak had curled up. Still huge despite that.

  “Ask him if you can sleep under his wing,” said Kantees.

  “Gally sleep under your wing, Looesa?”

  There was no movement.

  “Just push a little bit, just there.” She took his hand and laid it on Looesa’s neck. The ziri moved, opened up a little, and lifted his wing. Gally needed no further prompting and carefully climbed inside the space. Shingul adjusted and the wing came down.

  “’Night, Gally.”

  “’Night, Kantees. ’Night Looesa.”

  The ziri grunted. Kantees shook her head in wonderment. It was less as if they were simple animals, and more as if they were friends. Wel
l, of course, she understood that, she had been with Sheesha so long that he was a friend. But the way these were treating Yenteel, whom they had never met, did not make sense.

  Sheesha made a low growling noise, not aggressive.

  “Yes, all right, Sheesha, I’m coming.”

  She turned and found him waiting with his wing raised.

  “I don’t understand,” she said quietly but Sheesha was already snoring.

  It was fine for him to go to sleep immediately, he did not have her worries. Even though she was so tired it took her a long time to sleep as their options—or lack of them—went through her mind.

  They needed to keep moving but Yenteel’s injury made that impossible.

  One thing at a time was the last thought she remembered having as the warmth of Sheesha’s feathers drew her into sleep.

  Twelve

  “How big is Esternes?”

  She woke up with that question in her mind. She had asked it once when she had been at the townhouse and been struck to the floor for the impertinence. Her master then had not been a rich man, and he was a scholar. They lived by the sea although she was never allowed out to see it. She spent her time cleaning.

  But just because she was cleaning it did not mean that she did not have ears. The scholar was consulted for his wisdom and his astronomical predictions. This was a tricky area because such things were traditionally the province of the patterners. They kept their knowledge to themselves for the most part.

  The scholar knew he was walking a fine line but he always managed to keep to the right side of it. He did not trespass on the territory of the patterners. As far as Kantees knew he had never made a pattern in all the time she was with him. It was said that true skill with patterning required one be born with the talent and train with it for years.

  There were rumours of wild talent, even reports of one in the far south across the sea. But Kantees could not ask, she could only listen and learn.