by Kirk Dougal
*****
“You've grown, Searcher. The first time we met I sensed you would not last long in this world, that you were out of your place. Now,” she shrugged. “I'm not wrong often.”
We were sitting at a table near the wall in the back room of the Bloody Pig. She had spoken openly, not afraid of anyone overhearing. After my fight with the Fafnir and the woman's demeanor, a semi-circle of tables had cleared around us, the patrons finding safer spots to drink and tell stories about fabulous adventures.
“Holy shit, I thought you were dead, Beast!” DeBrest exclaimed as he approached the table.
The woman glanced at him, and then let her gaze trail behind to Saleene and Bree. I saw her eyes drop to take in the dagger in the harness around Saleene's shoulders, but she only nodded to the silver-haired fighter.
“I'm with DeBrest,” Card said as he walked into sight. “We couldn't get through the crowd to help…”
His mouth slammed shut as the woman leaped to her feet. Her right hand was half-curled with the palm facing up, a rotating ball of yellow light floating above her skin. She was no more than standing when I noticed Card had crouched down, mace in one hand and the string of stones swinging from the other. If I did not do something fast, I was afraid the Bloody Pig might earn its name twice in one afternoon with more blood on the floor.
“Whoa, whoa!” I said. “Everybody just take a deep breath. We're all here just to talk.”
“You have strange friends, Searcher,” the woman said, each word hissed between her pointed teeth. “I'll not speak to one who smells of blood and death like this one.”
“Me?” Card exclaimed. “Don't you know what she is, Beast? I wouldn't trust her…”
“Enough!” I felt my arms growing hot again, but I did not want things to get out of control. I knew Card had said he grabbed the avatar of a war wizard, but I never thought about what reputation that might drag along with it. At the same time, I had sensed danger from the woman the first time we met. The two of them in the same room was probably not a good idea.
“Card, go outside and wait while I talk to her,” I said. “Take DeBrest with you, maybe buy some more supplies so we'll be ready to leave as soon as we can.”
Card did not move, his chest still. After a few seconds, he grunted, backing away from the table, his eyes never leaving the woman. DeBrest followed, and they moved out of sight. Bree let out a breath, and the room came back into focus.
“Please,” I said. “Please, sit and talk with us.”
The woman eased back onto the bench, the light pulling in on itself until it winked like a black eye and was gone, but she no longer faced me. Instead, she was turned at an angle so she could see who came into the room. I realized who she was watching for.
“Card, is my partner. He won't bother us.”
The woman glanced at me. “Grown indeed.” She looked at Saleene and Bree before flipping her braid over her shoulder. “You may call me Yemaya. I can help you find the last dragon slayer. For all the good it will do you.”
“What does that mean?” Saleene asked. I could see the top of her hand resting on the handle of her dagger.
“Many have tried to find the dragon slayer. Some have even succeeded. But no one has ever received his help.” She smiled, teeth points pressing into her lower lip. “At least, not for a long, long time.”
“If you can get us to him, we will convince him to help us,” I said.
“Ah, help. That is a word I don't hear very often in Maegdon,” Yemaya said. “Yes, I will help you, but first you must help me. There is a price for my information.”
I glanced at Saleene. The silver-haired woman was staring at the table and frowning, but she said nothing, leaving the negotiation to me.
“What is the price?” I asked.
“It is a simple thing really. I want you to retrieve an item for me.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I had been through major negotiations in my days of The Kindred, and I knew that the more something was described as simple, the more expensive it turned out to be, and they were just trying to take my money in those days. I had a feeling that with Yemaya, the cost would be made in another, deadlier form.
“What do you want us to get?”
“A woman's heart.”
I blinked. My heart beat against my chest, but it must not have been pumping blood because my body had gone cold.
“Oh, don't worry yourselves about the woman,” Yemaya continued. “She is already dead.”
Saleene cleared her throat. Her mouth must have gone as dry as mine.
“Who was the woman?” she asked.
“My sister, Oshun.” Yemaya stared at the wall behind me, her eyes glazing over. “She died much too young for her time. I wish for her heart to be brought to me so that it can be treated with the respect and honor it deserves.” She looked down into my eyes.
“I know from firsthand experience that you can take care of yourself,” I said. My hand moved of its own accord to my ribs where she had sliced through my jerkin with her nails the first time we met. The corners of Yemaya's mouth twitched upward at the movement. “Why don't you get the heart yourself? Surely no one could stand in your way of honoring a family member.”
The smirk disappeared, replaced for a heartbeat by a sadness so deep I felt a tear spring up in my eye. But then the sorrow vanished and left her pale and emotionless again.
“I cannot enter the country where my sister is entombed. I was driven away, and if I try to return, they will hunt me down like the dogs on the fox, badgering and nipping until there are too many for me to fight off.” Yemaya shrugged. “There is only so much that even I can do.”
Again, I glanced at Saleene. This time, she at least returned my stare opening her mouth, but then closing it just as quickly. She felt the danger as much as I did, but she also realized we were desperate.
“Okay, we'll do it,” I said. “But I need to know where we're going so we can arrange for supplies.”
“That will all be taken care of,” Yemaya said. “Stable your horses here at the tavern until you return.” She stood up, smoothing her dress, little rivulets of yellow light tracing the path of her hands. “Meet me in front of the tavern's stables tonight at midnight. You will leave from there.”
As she spoke, I had trouble focusing on her body. Her voice was strong, but the edges of her shoulders and waist appeared to blend into the background so I had trouble deciding where she stopped and the background began. I glanced at Saleene, but she was staring at the woman so I turned back, only to find that Yemaya was no longer in front of me, and I had only the whisper of a shadow fleeting across my thoughts.
“I don't like this, Saleene,” Bree said. I realized she had not spoken to Yemaya and now she was rubbing her stone ring so hard I heard her skin scraping across its surface.
“I don't either,” I said. Saleene still had not moved, mesmerized by what the woman had done. “But we don’t have much choice. Face danger in here or let innocent people die in the real world.” My words shook Saleene out of her trance.
“Yes, no choice,” she muttered, then her voice grew. “And we have no idea where we're going to retrieve this woman's heart. I've a feeling we better prepare for a long journey.”
I nodded. “I need to let Card and DeBrest in on what we're doing to find the last dragon slayer. We've got a lot to get done before midnight.”
Saleene stood and started toward the front door of the Pig, Bree close on her heels. I noticed that, this time, no one bothered them with tales of adventure on the way out. I downed the rest of my ale and moved to follow.
I crossed from the inner room to the outer and was nearly halfway to the door when I stopped. No one had offered me a chance for riches either and, in fact, many of the tavern's patrons, avatar and computer construct alike, purposely avoided my gaze, turning away or scurrying in the opposite direction as I approached. DeBrest had given them something to say, however, and whispers of “Beast” followed in my wake.
But that was not why I stopped. For all the eyes that immediately turned away, I felt my skin crawl under the weight of someone's attention. I turned, spinning slowly on a heel, my eyes searching the shadows for danger until I found someone returning my stare.
He was a young man, standing near the back of the bar, barely old enough to be called a man, and without a single hair sprouting on his chin. His hair dropped around his face in soft curls, framing it in a way that made his black skin stand out even more. I looked away first, and I told myself it was to look at his clothes, white cloth with a simple embroidery on his chest. Then a group of men, noticing me and fleeing across the room, passed between us. When they were out of the way again, the young man was gone.
I walked to the door, my mind churning faster with the realization the needlework had been of an eagle, its wings outstretched in soaring flight.
Chapter 30
“She's an impundulu!” Card said for the tenth time, his voice echoing off the walls of the stable. “You can't possibly be serious about trusting her.”
“What choice do we have?” I was starting to get angry as well. “We've got to get into Dinas Farwolaeth to find out if the terrorists are using the castle to meet.” I took a deep breath. “People are counting on us, Card.”
He paced back and forth, mumbling in what I believed to Spanish but was not about to ask for a translation. After several minutes, his footsteps slowed, and he finally stopped in front of me.
“I know they are, Rick. But…” He hesitated before plunging back into the deep end. “When I was just a little kid, my abuela, my grandmother, she used to tell us stories every night about growing up in Puerto Rico. And when she needed to keep us in line, she told us stories about we were going to be punished if we didn't behave and do what she said.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead, rubbing his hands on his robe and leaving dark streaks. “This one time, I really pissed her off and she told me the story about the Chupacabra and how it was going to break into our apartment at night and suck out all my blood if I didn't behave. It scared me so bad that she started using the Chupacabra every time I acted up, even when I was older.”
“All grandmothers are like that,” I said. “Mine used to give me homemade chocolate chip cookies, and then spank me until I had trouble sitting down because I was running around on a sugar high. She was just trying to help you grow up straight.”
“I know, I know. I loved Abuela, and I cried my eyes out when she died.” He turned and stared me in the face. “But the Chupacabra has stuck with me all these years. So anytime I even hear about something like it, like a vampire, it hits a raw nerve.”
“So is that what Yemaya is? A vampire?”
“No, not exactly,” Card said. “An impundulu is a sorcerer or sorceress who uses their magic to stay alive for a long, long time. Almost forever if they're strong enough. They do it by stealing the life force of other people. It's not their blood, but it kills the victim all the same.”
“Okay, so we all know we need to be very careful around her.” I shuddered. “I'll be the first to admit to she gives me the creeps.” I stood away from the wall and gestured toward the door. “Come on. If we aren't going to trust Yemaya, then we better help round up some supplies for this trip.”
Card nodded and fell into step beside me. We emerged into the early evening, the sun starting to deepen in color as it dove for the horizon. Shadows ran long across the courtyard, reminding me of black rivers flowing out from the dark.
A scream pierced the air, drowning out the city noises. Orange and pink reflected off the white eagle's wings as they spread wide, pulling the massive bird out of its dive to land on the nearby fence, dust swept up from the force of the flapping. Card, whose mouth had fallen open at some point during the landing, gasped as I walked to the bird. It leaned down as I approached, its golden eyes looking into mine as its red beak dipped close to my ear.
“Dowland, I wanted you and Card to know that Agent Samson is safe and so is his family.” The eagle's beak never moved, holding open so Tower's voice came spilling out like a megaphone. “We've moved all the agents to a secure location for the time being until a permanent arrangement can be made. Only you and Card are still in your hospital room because we were afraid you would lose contact with the game if we moved you. Oh, Samson told us you have some players helping you. If you can get us names and addresses, we'll get them protection, too. But you've got to hurry, Dowland. All of our intelligence agencies are getting wind of something big in the works from the terrorists but no one can pin down what it is. We need your intel. Send a message through the oracle as soon as you can. There's a lot of people out here counting on you.” The eagle closed its beak and raised its head. The message delivered, it began scanning the area, probably searching for a meal.
I walked to Card who had gained some of his composure back. “I knew how we were sending messages, I mean, I sent one, but that's impressive.”
“Did you understand what Tower said?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes, Tower said that they would code the messages so all the agents could understand them.”
“Then you understand we have no choice. We make the deal with Yemaya.”
*****
The moon was a bare sliver in the sky and already ducking downward when Yemaya walked out of the shadows. Her long dark dress blended into the ground behind her, making her head appear to levitate toward us, pale-skinned hands hanging in solitude below. As frightening as she was in the Red Boar during daylight, she felt even more dangerous now. Power flowed off her in waves, beating at me like a wind and threatening to push me back.
“I see you're all here, Searcher,” she said.
Her gaze flitted over the other three but stopped on Card. Her lips parted for a moment, and I had a good view of her dagger-like teeth. I had no doubt everyone had hold of their weapons, including Card and his stones, because I was gripping the hilt on my sword so hard my fingers ached.
“We're ready,” I said. “Where do we go to find Oshun's heart?”
“Zamani. In the city of the Golden Tower, Tsamib, you will find her tomb. Cut out her heart and bring it back to me in this.” Yemaya held out a small box, corner metals shining like gold in the moonlight and covered with an intricate design that stood out pale against the ebony wood.
“Zamani?” Saleene whispered. “Beast, that's a name only from legend. The tales say it is a country across the Windless Sea.”
“That is correct, girl,” Yemaya said. “It is my homeland, and I miss it almost as much as I miss my sister. Now it is time for you to go.”
I grabbed a pack and slung it over my shoulder and watched as the others did the same. When I turned forward again, Yemaya was smiling.
“You do not trust me. So be it.” She stepped into the middle of the courtyard. “Remember, my sister Oshun is buried in a tomb inside Tsamib. Anyone will know where she is placed but too many questions may call attention to you. And the attention of the royal family is not something you want. Complete this and I will show you the way to the last dragon slayer.”
She pushed the long, dark sleeves up her arms, baring her forearms to the night. Her pale skin was covered in tattooed latticework, and I realized after a few seconds that it was a duplicate of the pattern on the box in my pack. Yemaya held her hands a few inches apart, facing each other, and began to chant.
A yellow ball of light appeared between her palms. It reminded me of the one that had materialized above her hand when she and Card had faced off inside the Bloody Pig. But that one had been spinning slowly, allowing me to track the ribbons of black that ran through it. This ball was twirling so fast it was a blur, blending the light and black together, tendrils whipping out from the edge like whips only to recede just as quickly. More importantly, the light was growing.
Within seconds, Yemaya needed to pull her hands apart to keep the ball from touching her. The escaping fingers of light, however, could not be avoided. They flayed at her, singein
g her hands and filling the air with roasting flesh. Sweat shined on her skin in the light, but she never spoke, never cried out.
Suddenly, Yemaya threw her arms to the side, flinging them back and releasing the ball. It stretched with the movement, morphing into an oval and smoothing before returning to a circle. It hovered, and then tilted until it was perpendicular to the ground, no longer a ball but now a flat disc. Bright white shot out of it, and I blinked in the light of a noon sun, heat blasting from the disc, followed quickly by the odor of sagebrush on a dry wind.
Yemaya walked around the disc, each step a halting stab forward with her feet.
“Go now,” she said, the words pushed out through gritted teeth. “I cannot hold the doorway open for long. Return to the same spot in five days at the same time, and I will open it for your return. If you miss the opening, then you must find your own way across the sea. Go!”
Her shout jerked my feet into action, shaking off the awe in what she was doing. I took another step before jumping through the spinning disc…
…and rolled down a hill of sand. I gasped, the breath shocked out of my body in the heat, the sun searing my eyes. I lurched to one knee, and then puked so hard it felt as if my boots were coming through my stomach into my throat. Someone was nearby, and I heard them throwing up as well, but my stomach continued to convulse until all that was left was bile and air. When I was finally able to regain control of my body, I glanced to my right and all four of my companions were doing the same as me, attempting to recover from something that none of us ever wanted to do again.
Then I caught Card's attention, and he shrugged, red climbing into his cheeks.
“I should've warned you about how traveling like that makes you sick,” he said. “The same thing happened to me when I transported to Dinas Farwolaeth.”
“Jesus, you've done that twice?” DeBrest said. Card nodded while he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“And he wants to do it a third time,” I said. “But we've got a job to do before we can return to Hart's Dale.” I glanced around the area. Across the shimmering sands, a black mass rose from the ground, appearing to float above the scorching sands. In the middle, the sun's brilliance reflected off a golden dome, shining like a beacon to guide us. I nodded in its direction. “The Golden Tower of Tsamib. That's where we're headed.” I trudged forward, gesturing toward a pile of boulders a few yards away, thrusting out of the sands like giant fingers digging through the shifting dunes for the surface. “In five days, everyone remember where the exit is.”
