The Ghost Sister

by Liz Williams

  He gathered up the bedding. We left the little band silently, looking after us, and walked on.

  It was as well that we moved when we did. The clear sky of the previous few days had gone, and a great bank of cloud was beginning to build up over Etrery the mountain that they call the Hall of Storms in Ettaic. It wore the towering anvil mass of cumulus. Shu said uneasily, “That carries more snow,” and she was right.

  “You read the weather well,” I told her.

  She smiled. “Where I come from, Eleres, it's barely necessary. The Weather Monitors take care of all that.” She'd told me about the spirits that governed the weather at whim in her world; it seemed very strange to me, to live in a place that was so controlled. Then she spoke once again into the charm at her wrist, and stood listening. She had done this regularly ever since we had begun our journey, but her companions had been silent.

  “Nothing?” I asked.

  “Still nothing. Eleres, I think something might have happened to them. It's been ages, now.”

  And Mevennen was with them …

  “You still haven't told me why this is so important,” I said.

  She sighed, with evident frustration. “I'm sorry, Eleres. I can't explain it very easily; I think it's better if you see with your own eyes.”

  I was going to press her but the wind was rising and the first snowflakes swirled down from the heavens. Hastily, we camped in a lee among the rocks, well away from the cliff face. We secured the bivouac fast to the hard earth, and sheltered beneath it to wait out the storm. The snow hit soon after, accompanied by a driving wind that drowned out all other sound. We understood the cold in the north, and knew how to avoid its seductive dangers. Morrac and I lay close together, backs against the rock, our breathing shallow. Shu lay by my side, fast asleep with her back to me. It was relatively warm in the bivouac, and shortly I drifted into a doze. When I awoke, Morrac's head lay against my arm, and he was embracing me. Despite the circumstances, he was aroused and his face in sleep wore a strained distractedness.Then he woke up, groaned, and twisted his face into my shoulder.

  “We haven't made love for so long,” he murmured.

  “Well, we're not about to do so now,” I told him. It wasn't that I didn't want to, but I was exhausted and I didn't want to wake Shu. “It's not from choice.”

  Soon after this incident, the snowstorm blew itself out in a last flurry of icy wind and we emerged from the heavy canopy of snow that had gathered upon the bivouac to find a bright and searing world. The skies were aquamarine, the color of a clear sea in summer, and cloudless; the red light of the sun spilled over the snow. Morrac stamped down the snowfield, kneading cold hands. His breath streamed out behind him. He seemed elated by the glittering world. Against my better judgment, affection for him welled up in me. Catching him up, I slipped my arm across his shoulders and he leaned against me for a moment. In spite of the frost that dusted his coat he was warm and solid and comforting, but we had to get on the move. Shu and I packed up the bivouac and we headed on into the hills.

  Our passage along the string of lakes that star the mountains gradually became easier, and more familiar. Gradually, I realized that this was country I knew: lands not far from the House of Sephara, which had close ties with Aidi Mordha. Ithyris lived here, my long-ago love and present friend. As soon as I realized that I knew where we were, my spirits lifted a little. I suggested moving on to Sephara and Morrac readily agreed. Snow lay lightly along the lakeshores, and we drove a hard pace, skirting the higher, harder country. Summer had not lasted long in these heights. The lakewater had already frozen, and glossy sheets of ice stretched from shore to shore. When we camped again that evening, we watched the waterbirds sliding along the ice to search for a place thin enough to break and drink through. As darkness fell from the snow-lit sky they clustered along the edges of the icy shallows, to make easy hunting.

  As we ate, and the mountains darkened against the virid-ian sky, Morrac said, “What of the mehed, in all this snow and the winter yet to come? Where do they go, do you think?”

  “They know where to go. Some don't survive the winter; many do. They go wherever we went in the cold, when we were children.”

  “I don't remember.”

  “Just as we sleep for the whole of the darkest month, so do they, like the beasts.” I saw Shu's eyes widen at that. I went on. “I recall that time in Gehent—there was a cavern where a group lay sleeping. Do you remember, Morrac?” I could see it clearly: the bodies clustered together for warmth like the birds on the shore, wrapped in a rancid mass of furs, faces deformed by hard living, age, and disease, but closed and quiet now in the long winter sleep. And ourselves, too: fighting the urge to join them, lie down, go into the dreams of earth until the breath of spring on the wind led us to rise again and resume our lives. We had to keep moving or perish, and at last I remember that we had come to Sephara and spent the depth of winter sleeping there. It was the longest time that Morrac and I had ever spent together, both dreaming the same dreams, and that was the beginning of our affair. He remembered that, I knew, from the way he was looking at me now, and I turned away. We rose early in the cold light.

  From Eil ai Heirath a pass called the Tongue leads over toward Sarthen. It is a narrow, meandering crack in the mountains, fringed in winter with frozen waterfalls, and it was necessary to tread softly and slowly so as not to bring the tall icicles down on one's head. We traversed the Tongue all day, looking forward to reaching Sephara. Before us, the shadow of a star ran and danced over the snow, driven by the high wisps of cloud that flew between its source and the world. At the top of the ridge, we stopped and looked back. I could see the land that emerged from the Tongue, a faded blue in the distance, ridge after ridge disappearing into shadow at the end of the world. We were close to the ore mines, land that had been ruled by the Ettic lords five hundred years before. Yr En Lai was among them, a man who had also spoken with ghosts. From his next words, Morrac's mind was running along similar lines.

  “How do you think they thought, the Ettic lords?” he asked idly.

  “Much as we do, I suppose. They weren't so reflective, from what I've read. Pragmatists. They were ghost speakers, too. Yr En Lai's diaries are in the library at Sephara. He spoke with ghosts, hoped they could help him win power over the north.” Shu was listening intently, I noticed, and there was a frown on her face. I went on. “And it's said he went to Outreven. His ghosts promised him a lot, delivered his lover from the grip of the world, so they say.” I was silent for a moment. “He died at Tjara, long after.”

  “He was a madman. He led his family into destruction; there's no one left now. No wonder he called on spirits.”

  “They didn't help him in the end. He said they were very tall, and couldn't look at bright light.” I glanced at Shu, but she shook her head.

  “I don't know who they could have been,” she murmured.

  Morrac said nothing. We turned from the white distance and walked on. There seemed to be no one else in the world, but when we crossed a second ridge we saw a covey of mahar in the distance, running along the valley floor. They were hunting, for they belled and called in their human voices. But they were heading away up the valley toward their herd ground. We watched them as they ran, the long necks stretched out, powerful hind legs drumming the snow, and their whiplike tails whirled in the air.

  “What are they after?” Shu said, straining to see.

  “I can't tell. Maybe oroth … they'll be winter-white now, so you won't be able to see them.”

  The sun sank behind cloud, a sudden smudge on the horizon. I could smell snow on the wind, blowing down from the northern heights. We walked on, into disaster.

  It started as a prickle at the edges of awareness, a shiver down the nape of my neck. Giving Morrac a warning look, I did not stop, nor did I give any sign that I knew that we were being watched.

  “Eleres?” Shu whispered, puzzled. “What's wrong?”

  “Something's following us.”

>   “Are you sure?”

  Though distracted, I realized that she did not ask me how I knew. I said, “Yes. Keep close to me. Keep your weapon at hand.”

  We continued to walk on, but as we did so, I covertly scanned the high rocks for signs of life. The sun was falling from between the clouds, crossing the horizon's line in a blur of bronze light, and it reflected from the rocks. No one was up there that I could see. All the signs came from behind. Whoever was pursuing us was very quiet. I could not hear, but I could feel. My instincts were to run. We had allowed ourselves to become prey, and this must change. I must become predator in turn, use the bloodmind to my advantage.

  But as I began to allow my senses to take hold of me, my feet strayed from the path, and a line once more rose up to meet me. It seemed to travel up my spine, seizing me in a grip like cold lightning, and the day turned black around me. I heard the ghost's voice shouting my name. As I fell, the name of the ai Staren rang in my mind, and I knew that we had once more come upon one of the lines of dark earth energy which radiated from that tower in the hills. But there was a promise in the sensation that gripped me now, something seductive and alluring and irresistible. Ignoring Morrac's cry of alarm, I began to run, scrambling down a loose slope of scree, following the line down through the rocks to an old place that smelled of blood.

  Shu cried out, “Eleres! Come back!” —but it was too late. They were waiting for me.

  It was twilight now, a good hour for hunting. There were four of them. Their eyes were bright in the shadows, and in a moment of clarity I realized that their song was all around me. They were perched high in the rocks, looking down, and they had drawn me in from my path as a huntress summons a bird out of the sky. One of the women slipped forward to circle me. Her speech slurred and clicked; she was not under the bloodmind, or perhaps it made no difference to them.

  She said, “Ba'n'treda. Landed. A fighter.”

  “Eleres!” Shu's voice came from behind me on the slope.

  At the sound of my own name, something seemed to settle in my mind. Pera Cathra's old voice, telling me about the discipline of ettouara. It does not rely on the bloodmind. It is something else, something old and quiet. I began to sink into myself, listening to my instincts and my body. I started to relax into the movement of my sword. The huntress saw this and gave a raw little laugh.

  “See?” The accent was strange, as though she spoke rarely, and then only to kindred. “I said it. A fighter.” I barely glimpsed her move. She came down from the rocks in a rush, bare handed. She wore claws attached to a mesh glove; they raked my arm as I turned aside. I dodged the next blow, but not the third. The claws came in to sear my side. I felt as though I had been licked with a fiery tongue; my skin burned with a sudden poisonous glow. I heard Morrac and Shu calling from high on the slope, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Morrac scrambling down to meet me.

  “Morrac!” I shouted. “Run!” But it was too late. He reached the bottom of the slope in a rattle of loose rocks just as the huntress forced me back. I saw one of the ai Staren slip from the rocks and disappear. Morrac turned, seeking them out. But the discipline of ettouara slowed down the world for me, allowing me to anticipate the huntress's moves. As she came swiftly in under my blade I grasped her by the wrist and spun her around, kicking her feet from under her and using her own weight to break her neck.

  Her siblings were silent; no cries of loss or hatred, just their lethal presence as they moved toward us. Morrac grasped my wrist and we stepped swiftly backward up the slope to where Shu was hovering, but as I did so I saw the gaze of the lead huntress snap up. Her face grew slack and blank. She stopped, staring beyond me. I turned. The mehed were standing in a long line along the ridge and as I stared at them, dazed, they started to close in. The huntress gave a long cry of fury, and began to scramble back down the slope. My side blazed with pain and my knees gave way. I do not remember falling.

  Five

  Landblind

  1. The mission

  Bel, Sylvian, and Dia had spent the rest of the day searching for Mevennen, but with no result. At last Dia, her face lined with weariness, told the others to call off the search.

  “Wherever she is,” Dia said, “we're not going to find her now. It's getting dark, and we don't know what else might be in those ruins.”

  “We can't just leave her,” Bel insisted. “She may be hurt, disoriented, frightened—”

  “We'll come back in the morning,” Dia said firmly.

  “But—”

  “Mevennen's not the only one I'm worried about. We've heard nothing from Shu for days now. The ship can't raise the aircar and I've been unable to reach her on the communicator. It's as though something's blocking the transmission. I'm still reading the aircar's signature, so it hasn't crashed— but what if she's hurt, or held prisoner?”

  “It's possibly the generator itself,” Sylvian said. “It's a powerful field; look how it affected the aircar's navigational array. Once it's turned off, we might find that things start working properly again. Perhaps Shu's been trying to contact us, and can't. But if we can't reach her after the generator shuts down, we'll go looking.”

  “How close are we to shutdown?” Dia asked.

  “Very close, I think. The ship's downloaded a revised set of recursive algorithms into the generator's biomorphic field. It should begin to start powering itself down on its own any moment now.”

  “How sure are you that it will work?”

  “I'm confident enough.”

  “Good,” Dia said. She turned. “Bel, let's get going, shall we?”

  But Bel was no longer there.

  2. Eleres

  I was stiff and shaking. Snow was drifting down and the ground was hard beneath my feet. I drifted in and out of unconsciousness, until I lay half waking and realized that I could smell water. I crawled toward its freshness and broke the thin ice that covered it. It lay in a cone of rock, a fissure in the great cliff wall that stretched above me, and it was dark and cold. I lay with the side of my face in the water. I couldn't bring my hand up to help myself drink. Then nausea took me and I vomited over and over again into the snow. I lay and retched, unable to control myself, then fell back against the side of the rock. The coldness of it was merciful. I lay there for a long time. Although it was winter-cold, the heat seemed to drift over me in waves. The thumb of my right hand seared with pain and I remembered then that I had cut it off, only to recall moments later that it was not I, but Sereth. I saw her then, standing over me with her fiery hair streaming smoke into the wind, and when her spirit caught my eye, I thought I saw her smile. Then the dull sky spun above me into delirium and I passed out again.

  Later, it was night and almost as though the world had returned to normal. There was a fire, somewhere; I could hear it crackle and spit and I could feel its warmth. I could hear a fluting, encouraging call somewhere off to the right: a huntress, calling down a bird or some animal. It reminded me of the huntress of the ai Staren, or of Sereth. They seemed to run together in my mind. My muscles and my side still burned but I was at least able to move. I tried to sit up but someone pushed me down again. They shuffled as they moved, and reeked of decay. I rolled over and curled up. I was covered in a dusty brown stain which had stiffened my clothes and which smelled familiar: salty and sweet. I decided to remain wherever I was until my strength returned. I heard no voices, only the pad of feet and movement around me and the roar of the fire. I lay and tried to work out what had happened to me.

  Eventually, I managed to sit up. Many pairs of eyes turned on me, briefly, then slid away. I was among the mehed, many of them. They were wrapped in furs and the remnants of old garments: scraps of velvet, silks, wool. They left me alone. I rose unsteadily to my feet and moved among them and they parted, moving from me like water. Around me, the ground was barren, littered with stones that looked like fossils under the frost, and now I could smell the snow. We were in a cor-rie, sheltered within the mountains, and beyond a high white wall r
ose up, filling the sky. The land was known to me, its currents were pulling at my memory, and the strong tides of early autumn flowed through the earth. Ember ai Elemnai rose up in the distance.

  I got up and walked across to the edge of the corrie, looking for Shu or Morrac. Something lay there like a bundle of old rags, broken and twisted. I leaned down to investigate. It was one of the huntresses of the ai Staren. The ruined hands curled in death; film clouded the eyes like the bloom of frost on a fruit. Her frozen face was as murderous and beautiful in death as it had been in life, but the rest of her was nothing more than a scatter of sinews and bones. She had been butchered. The mehed must have caught her,and brought her here for food. Other bones surrounded her, white against the whiteness of the snow.

  One of the mehed was coming over, dressed in dark and tattered clothes, handsome face pale in the snowlight, but even though I had last seen him only a week or so before, it was a moment before I realized who it was. Jheru's blue eyes were clear and his hair was still plaited in a loose untidy braid. He looked at me thoughtfully. There was no sign of the state that had driven us apart, and which had brought us back together again. I was utterly at a loss. Whatever social graces I possessed were hardly appropriate for this sort of occasion. I sat down hard in the snow at Jheru's feet.

  “Do you know me?” I said. “It's me. It's Eleres.” My name sounded odd on my tongue, as though unaccustomed to being used. My friend nodded, then reached down, took my hand, and examined it, tracing the wounds of the huntress's attack with a gentle finger.

  “Do you know what happened to me?” I asked. “Where's Morrac?” No reply. Jheru held my hand and looked won-deringly up into the airy darkness. We sat like this for a while. My head was spinning; there was too much to take in.

  Unexpectedly, Jheru said, “I was wrong, to leave.”

  I twisted around. Jheru's beautiful face was sad.