by CK Dawn
She felt guilty. She had done precisely what she said she would not do, and abandoned everyone she knew; everything she believed in. But even the guilt was blasted away by the wind of her fall.
A sea-bird shrieked.
Then there was a touch. And she was sucked to the side and pressed into feathers. She opened the eyes she had closed against inevitable death. Zirichak feathers, familiar ones. She felt his muscles move as he spread his wings and she was pressed harder into his body. He would not let her die.
Now that she could see, the houses below seemed very close and growing fast. But Sheesha bent his wings against the air and, though they still fell together at a speed that took her breath, their course bent away from the closest structures and they fell fast towards those at the base of the cliff.
But Sheesha held his wings firm and slowly their fall transformed into level flight at a speed she barely comprehended. They shot out across the sea, clearing the tops of the masts so fast she had but a moment to contemplate them before they were gone.
Then she felt Sheesha’s magic: the golden glow within. It poured out and enfolded her. They were not slowing down. The sea below flashed past. The brighter crests of the swell became a blur. Sheesha was not beating his wings; instead they moved backwards until he was like an arrow piercing the world. Yet she could not feel it, cocooned within the magic.
This was it. This was their magic. This was what they did. No wonder they wanted to fly fast. It they could travel fast enough, they became the arrows of the sky.
And she was the one that had brought it forth in Sheesha. If she had not thrown herself out, he would not have chased and caught her.
So she clung with her arms hooked over the front of his wings next to his body.
Then she thought of Gally, Yenteel, and—may the Kisharuk curse him—Daybian. He would be so jealous. If he survived the day.
“We must go back, Sheesha,” she said quietly and she knew he could hear her. Perhaps not hear but he knew what she wanted.
And suddenly Kantees found herself tumbling through the air again. And falling. She caught a glimpse of Sheesha like a ball of feathers. The magic had gone, vanished like a candle being snuffed out. The air had struck her like a solid wall ripping her from Sheesha’s back.
She hit cold salty water and went under. She kept her eyes open though it stung and clawed her way back to the surface in a panic. She did not know how to swim.
From the air the swell in the ocean had not looked very big, but now water towered over her and brought up to its crest and then down into the trough again. She tried to shove away the panic that gripped her. People swam all the time. She knew they could do it. Anybody could do it. She desperately tried to convince herself as her head went under and she got another mouthful of water.
Where was Sheesha? Was he all right?
A shadow went over her. A giant pair of wings. He must not get soaked. He could tolerate some rain but if he was thoroughly wetted he would not be able to fly and they would both drown. Better he flew back to shore than try to rescue her.
She rose to the top of the next swell and Sheesha flew over the top of her with his legs down as if he was going to land. She knew he was not that foolish but what did it mean. She dropped down into the next trough.
In his next pass over he timed it wrong and she was at the low point. His talons splashed into the wave. She tried to shout at him to go but her mouth filled again and she just coughed. She was getting tired as she fought with the sea and the panic was rising again. Yes it was true that she had tried to kill herself only a short time before. But she had survived and learnt so much.
She did not want to die now.
As she rose on the leading edge of the next swell she saw him coming in again, this time he glided in along the ridge of the wave itself. With perfect timing he intercepted her just as she reached the crest. His talons were again dragging through the surface and one went each side of her.
With a last effort she pushed herself upwards and hooked each arm around one leg above the claw. His wings beat and she lifted with him. They beat once more and she left the water. Again, and she was her own height above it, but looking backwards all she could see was Sheesha’s sinuous feathered tail with the broad fan at its end.
He did not seem to be trying to gain much height but went round in a circle. She could see nothing but the ocean to the horizon in all directions. She did not know how long he could fly in such an unbalanced way—or how long she could hold on. There was no knowing how far they had come from the coast at the speed he had been flying.
Perhaps it was hopeless and they were both going to die anyway.
But Sheesha, after making his complete circle, set off, gaining a little height. She knew the ziri had excellent eyesight, far better than any human. Perhaps he had seen something she could not.
Wherever he was going, it did not take long. Though she could not see where he was heading. He turned in the air again and spiralled down. The turns he made did not reveal anywhere to land—it was still water everywhere around.
She looked straight down. There was something poking up from the surface of the water. It wasn’t very large and appeared perfectly round although the waves went all the way across the top of it from time to time. It did not look like rock and she did not think this was a good idea.
But she had no choice in the matter as Sheesha spiralled in for a landing. When she was a short distance above it she let go and fell. Her feet slipped on the smooth wet surface and she landed heavily. Sheesha made one more turn to make sure he knew where she was and with a flurry of beating wings landed gently.
The first thing Kantees realised was that their refuge was not fixed. It was floating and rose and fell with the water but more sluggishly as if it was very big. This meant that every now and then its dipping down coincided with a wave, and that was when the surface became completely covered.
On the first occasion Kantees’ feet were dragged from under her and she was almost swept away. However that showed her that this object floating in the ocean seemed to be a ball shape and the surface curved slowly beneath the waves.
Nor was it stone. What the outside reminded her of, most of all, was the shells she had cleaned in her first master’s study. This was rougher and there were other shells clinging to it. She walked unsteadily to Sheesha who would flap into the air a little every time a big wave came over.
In a moment of stability she put her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
He brought his head round and nudged her with his snout. She took it for an acknowledgement.
“We have to get back as quick as we can,” she said.
She looked at the sun. It seemed that very little time had passed since they had left Kurvin Port. She shook her head. It was confusing. So much could happen in such a short time and it seemed like forever. Yet it was nothing.
They were no safer here than they had ever been. There were plenty of things in the sea that could eat you. Her old master had smaller samples of monstrous creatures pulled from the sea by fishermen in their nets.
She had no desire to meet their larger brothers.
Kantees waited until one of the big waves had gone over the top and then climbed on Sheesha’s back. This time she sat between his wing pinions with her legs down. She could grip him that way and could see. If necessary she could lean forward onto his neck.
With no further prompting from her, as their temporary refuge hit the top of a swell, Sheesha leapt into the sky beating his wings hard to quickly gain altitude. Kantees looked down. A short distance from the huge ball were five creatures floating on their backs. The scale was difficult to judge but she thought they might be about half her height. They had four legs, although their front pairs were folded like arms as they lay there watching Sheesha and Kantees climb into the sky. Their bodies were covered in fur and they had tails, big powerful ones. As the ziri climbed upwards they turned together and dived, heading towards the ball.
> Shocalin, she thought. Legends. Yet it seemed they too were real. Intelligent as any man but renowned for their wisdom. Though, since they were only a legend how would anyone truly know how wise they were? People had thought her old master was wise but she knew that trick, he said things that meant nothing—or everything—and let people draw their own conclusions. He might have been more knowledgeable than most. It did not make him wise. Perhaps the Shocalin were assumed to be wise because they said nothing.
It did not matter. It had nothing to do with her. She should simply concentrate on what was coming, and what she needed to do next. Rescue her friends and find that stupid boy, always sticking his nose into places where it did not belong.
They had to return to shore. She had no idea how far they had come so it might take all day or longer for them to return at normal flying pace. Neither did she know if it was possible to repeat what they had done before—perhaps avoiding the mess at the end. Particularly if the end happened over land instead of more forgiving water.
Sheesha did not object to being sent higher. So she had him climb while heading in what she believed to be the right direction. The sea spread out beneath them, getting wider and wider. She saw a large fishing boat off to what she thought was the south but there was no sign of any land.
For one short moment she considered going to the boat and asking for directions. The thought of it made her laugh but it was not a serious idea. She knew that sailors were superstitious and there was always the risk they might try to shoot at her before she got to them.
She did not know how high she needed to go but the air was growing cold so she thought it was probably enough. The prospect of sending Sheesha into a dive back towards the water scared her, but she did not think it needed to be as precipitous a dive as when she had been falling.
He did not need to catch her this time; she just needed to be able to hang on.
“This is it, Sheesha, you’re going to fly fast again.”
She leaned forward. He spread his wings and went nose down into the dive. Their speed increased quickly. Soon the blast of the wind was threatening to knock her off so she leaned forward and put her arms around Sheesha’s neck.
Faster and faster.
Without being told, Sheesha increased the dive angle and pulled his wings in. They were dropping like a stone. Kantees had her eyes shut against the blast. She just had to trust he would not let them crash into the sea.
Then it started. She felt the warmth boiling from him, the power, and the golden light behind her eyelids. The wind stopped and she opened her eyes. Once more they were flashing across the surface of the sea. She leaned back and Sheesha climbed. In moments they were as high as they had been before and ahead, on the horizon, there was a dark mass.
Land, she thought and then said out loud. “Slow down.”
She half-expected her words to be ripped from her lips but she and Sheesha were indeed surrounded by a shell of magic that protected everything within.
This time, she got the feeling Sheesha was being more careful. Since they were enclosed, and quite high, it was difficult to tell if they were slowing down but suddenly the air ripped through. Kantees was knocked back but her legs hooked over Sheesha’s wings saved her. And Sheesha himself did not lose control. Instead he snapped out his wings and glided, as their speed reduced.
The mass of darker ground ahead resolved into cliffs with the mountains of Esternes in the distance. It was late afternoon when they crossed the shore line. The only problem now, since she could not see Kurvin Port, was which direction she should head along the coast.
Unfortunately she really was going to have to ask for directions.
There was smoke rising from a bay and she decided that would be as good as any place. Once more she hoped she was not too late for the rescue. Last time she was too late to stop Jelamie from being taken. This time her companions might be dead. It depended on how the remaining Hamalain had taken her sudden escape. They might simply have killed them all in a fit of pique. Or set about torturing them, she did not know whether Sheesha’s golden magic was visible—and, if it was, whether it had been observed.
One thing at a time. She could not help them—or avenge them—if she did not know which way to go.
Sheesha glided along the coast. The tide was in and waves thundered against the rocks as they went from bay to bay. It must be quite a large fishing village, she thought, because there was a considerable amount of smoke rising.
They rounded the final headland. There were boats bobbing in the bay. A pier stretched out into the water, and there were about a dozen houses. Of which all but one were smouldering ruins.
Twenty-Five
She circled the village once. The cliff behind was not as high as in Kurvin Port, nor were buildings built up the hill. A path led from the village up to some fields at the top of the cliffs.
She had Sheesha land at the top of cliff and dismounted. She wanted him to stay there but she had no way of enforcing it. So she just said “Stay here, I’ll be back” and headed down the steep and rough path.
Looking up she saw Sheesha had poked his head over the edge to watch her. She stumbled on the trail and grabbed at the cliff while her stomach turned somersaults.
How can I be afraid of heights? She thought as she steadied herself by holding on to a clump of coarse grass growing out of a crack in the rock. Maybe I’m just afraid of falling.
She went on, this time not taking her eyes off the path. Although it was uneven, in particularly steep sections rocks had been placed to make steps. They were rounded stones, however, and were not a great help. Even so it did not take long for her to reach the flat area of the bay.
As she had been focusing on the path she looked up with surprise to see a group of men and women. Most had the pale skin of the Taymalin, though wrinkled and weathered by exposure to the sky and the sea. There was one with darker skin though still not the shade of a true Kadralin. A by-blow of some mating between the two: a half-breed that some called Jutolin. There were plenty of them in the world, and both Kadralin and Taymalin treated them badly.
This man wore clothes similar to the rest. None of them were rich, of course.
“Who art?”
“I am of Corlain—” She had heard the family name years ago, a family not on Esternes but far to the south. “—travelling to Hamalain. What happened here?”
The man looked terrified and glanced at the others around him. If he was looking for some sort of sign, she didn’t think he got one. “Tekrak.”
She decided to play innocent. “It’s the wrong season for tekrasa.”
He shook his head and the other people shuffled their feet. “One tekrak.”
She looked at the burning buildings. “One tekrak? Why did you not chop off its fire tube and pierce it through?”
He hesitated, perhaps thinking she would not believe him. “One tekrak bigger than a house with men riding inside.”
“Men inside a tekrak? You have been drinking.”
All the people shook their heads now. They were on his side and he gained courage. “No, one tekrak bigger than a house and with men in a house it was carrying.”
The trouble with playing dumb was that she could not ask whether they had a child with them without giving away the fact that she knew about it.
“There has never been a tekrak so big.”
“So it was we thought. But the old mother says different. She says it is the Slissac returned.”
Kantees wondered who the old mother might be. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the quandary she was now in. The state of the buildings meant that this had happened recently. So the raiders could not be far away, but the longer she delayed in getting back to Hamalain the more likely she would find Yenteel, Gally, and Daybian dead.
She shook her head. This was not a quandary at all. She must rescue her friends first and with the four of them they had a better chance of rescuing Jelamie than she did alone. The speed of the tekrak was no matc
h for a ziri, even one without magic, even if the tekrak didn’t have to rest. And she was still unsure whether she wanted to reveal the truth to the others. Or to anyone—unless they had seen something when she escaped.
She hesitated. She needed to get back but what other secrets might the Hamalain have? Where had they found such a monstrous tekrak? How had a Taymalin patterner learnt to control it? How had it even occurred to him that it could be controlled? Perhaps these were important questions to be answered after all. The scholar she had served would have wanted to know. He did not like mysteries. “Knowledge is the beginning of wisdom” was one of his favourite sayings.
“Where is the old mother? I would like to talk to her.”
The small crowd parted and the half-breed beckoned for her to follow.
He led the way between the smoking buildings. If any effort had been used to put the fire out, nothing was happening now. Most of the fishing boats were out on the water and she could see their dark shapes as the villagers fished.
“What did they want?” she said. “The men who came?”
“They took our food,” he said and then choked. “And they took our daughters.”
Kantees sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Will you take word of our loss to Hamalain?” he said.
“I will tell them what happened. They will take revenge on these people.”
He stopped and turned. “We do not want revenge, mistress of the zirichak, just our daughters back.”
If they have not been murdered after being raped, she thought, but did not say. There was no need, the people in the village knew why the girls had been taken. Kantees found her palms were itching. She wanted to be away, and she desperately wanted to find these raiders and let Sheesha tear out their throats one by one. There was nothing in them that was redeemable.
She knew she could not take on every woe of the world and put it right but here the needs of these poor people coincide with her own. She could do what she could to help them.
“How many girls?”
