Tanza

by Amanda Greenslade

  ‘You’ll soon get used to it,’ Ciera said. ‘Krii blessed me with an aptitude for shrouding ever since I was a whelp.’

  He waited down on the stage, easily taking up a quarter of it with his massive body. As if bored, he was puffing out little gusts of steam, which quickly solidified into white disks that floated off in different directions. A group of at least thirty human children were chasing them in circles in front of the stage. A dozen skyearl whelps flew in their midst, playfully snatching the disks and spinning them in new directions. Some of the whelps were larger than Thita.

  Besides Sarlice and I, there were two other humans bonding today: Devlan and Gieri. Once the four of us had made our way to the stage a number of horns started to blow. On every face of the gorge, a conical, U-shaped tunnel was cut into the rock. Large skyearls stood below each tunnel and blew into one end of the U. It produced a strange hum, which was soon taken up by countless voices across the canyon.

  A choir of skyearls formed around the stage in a circle. They sang a complex melody to go with the background hum. Their voices were like those of a human male choir. Even the females had a husky baritone hum.

  As I watched and listened I noticed that each skyearl only sang one portion of the song. Together they created a complex whirlwind of canons. My entire body vibrated with the wistful, enchanting sound and I allowed my lungs to fill with air and my thoughts to become calm. Tension that I had been holding onto for days melted away and a profound sense of relief and hope suffused me.

  During the song Ciera gently sifted through my mind, poking a memory here, lifting up an old hurt there, examining my motivations and ambitions. He was puzzled by my relationship with Sarlice but, understanding humans far better than Rekala did, he left it alone. Presently, he invited me to investigate his memories and thoughts.

  Looking upon his mind was like standing at the edge of a canyon ten times the size of this one. I felt so tiny and somehow out-ofplace. Things seemed to be changing too fast for me to keep up. The most profound thing I found in Ciera’s mind was such spiritual solidarity. With a maturity I could barely comprehend he embraced change and tribulation, believing even the harshest trials to have been overseen by Krii to strengthen him.

  The paradox of suffering made perfect sense in Ciera’s mind. On the one hand there was Krii, fully aware of and using all the good and the bad things that happened to him. On the other, there was the strong conviction that the world was not the way it was meant to be. Krii created the world in light, not in darkness. But, when darkness had come, his true and perfect love did not simply abandon us. Instead, he had chosen to become mortal and walk in the fallen world bringing hope and peace. His eventual sacrifice broke the great seal, granting life after death to all Kriites.

  I rejoiced in the knowledge that I could grow so much with Ciera as my Sleffion-kin. When we were each satisfied that what we were doing was truly the will of Krii we sat down on the stage. The singing continued around us as the other initiates strained to find each other in the waves. Sarlice’s face was screwed up in concentration as she tried to make contact with her new Sleffionkin. Over the next hour, I conversed privately with Ciera about everything from our favourite foods to the most boring ceremonies we’d ever had to attend. He chuckled mentally.

  Eventually, the others sat too. Sarlice was beaming and kept reaching out to stroke Thita’s fur. One of the horn-blowing dragons ceased his tune. Ciera broke the skyearl song with a low, rumbling howl and a series of growl-grunts. The singers fell silent, allowing Ciera’s skyearl words to echo from wall to wall. The skyearls and their whelps stood with rapt attention, heads pointing in his direction. He continued to growl-grunt.

  Escotia, the interpreter from the worship meeting, was waiting at the front of the stage.

  In a loud voice she repeated what Ciera was saying in the Telbion-Tanzan language. I already knew what he had said:

  ‘Welcome to this Bonding Ceremony of four new kin pairs. As you all know, Tanza has thrived for centuries with the blessing of Krii. We, the skyearls, are among the privileged protectors of His people, the Anzaii-kin, Sleffion-kin, Tolite-kin and Rada-kin. Together we are known as Astor-kin. The earliest of the Astor giftings was of course the Anzaii. Being an off-shoot of the original twenty’s inherent abilities, there have always been ‘Anzaii’. However, there were no Anzaii-kin till later. The first of the actual kin were us, the skyearls or Sleffion-kin.

  ‘Our ancestors were little more than wild animals—water chimera. So-named were they, by the original twenty. Along with the fire chimera or cavearls; beasts that seem part lion, part bull and part snake, we are the greatest of the chimeras. There are many other chimeras, like the platypus of Irin and the hippogryphs of Duuryn, but each is a unique kind in its own right. It is simply easier for scholars to refer to us all as chimera because we are all creatures that appear to be made up of other creatures.

  ‘We skyearls were made masters of the sky by Krii.

  ‘Before that our wings could barely lift us off the ground and were used mainly to help us float and swim between the islands of our original home out to sea. Our natural affinity for water was transformed into the wondrous ability to breathe out shrouds and the magical solid platforms we use to build kingdoms in the sky.

  ‘In return our ancestors agreed to guide and protect the Kriites. The very first bonding between a human and a skyearl was overseen by Krii himself and the miracle of the waves made as plain as it had been during ancient times.

  ‘It is our duty to continue a tradition of centuries of loyal service.

  ‘Today we welcome four new human beings into a bonded relationship with their Sleffion-kin. For most skyearls the death of their human-kin also brings about their own death, a sacrifice we are honoured to make. From this day on we will serve you, feel your emotions, hear your thoughts. We will carry you on the strength of our wings and our shrouds. We will defend you with our very lives for we are skyearls.’

  When Ciera was finished, there were a few moments of silence.

  Escotia announced, ‘I now present Devlan the Sleffion, bonded with Guardian Rinshock. They are bonded on this the 119th day of the 700th year of the Age of Astors.’

  A pair of red sashes was handed to the boy standing next to me. He slung one across his shoulder and beneath the other arm then approached Rinshock with the other. The black and silver skyearl bowed his head and allowed Devlan to tie the sash around his neck, a symbol of both his servitude and his ties to the human.

  ‘I now present Gieri the Sleffion, Tolite, bonded this day with Scout Annaseld. They are bonded on this the 119th day of the 700th year of the Age of Astors.’

  Gieri was given a pair of white sashes—white for the scouts, I presumed—and she donned hers as Devlan had.

  Sarlice gave me a look of excitement as her turn approached. The boy waiting on the side of the stage had a pair of blue sashes and a pair of yellow. Judging by the sizes of the skyearl sashes the yellow one was for Thita and the blue for Ciera.

  ‘I now present Sarlice the Sleffion, Tolite, Rada,’ Escotia announced. ‘She is bonded this day with Strategist Thita. They are bonded on this the 119th day of the 700th year of the Age of Astors.’

  Sarlice stepped forward, accepted the sashes and put them on. Thita shivered with delight at her touch and fluttered happily around her head when she was finished. The tiny sash fell off his neck and Sarlice gave an embarrassed squawk and hurried to reaffix it. Escotia smiled at her and waited. When my guide was finished, the interpreter resumed her serious expression and spoke in a voice that boomed loudly in my skull.

  ‘Finally, I give you Talon the Astor, bonded with Emperor Ciera. They are bonded on this the 119th day of the 700th year of the Age of Astors.’

  I accepted the blue sash for myself and carefully wrapped it around my body and over one shoulder. The sash for Ciera was as wide as a bed sheet, twice as long and very heavy. I marvelled at the amount of work that would have gone into its weaving. On one s
ide of it was a gold-painted leather strap and the other was stitched with links of gold. Gems dangled from the links in such a way that they would become like a chest adornment on Ciera. With a grateful nod to its bearer, I hefted the material and threw it over my Sleffion-kin’s lowered neck. I fastened it using the inbuilt hooks and eyelets and patted Ciera’s thick, furred neck.

  Ciera howled my name in a triumphant roar. Without a word to me he hoisted me off the ground with one clawed hand, set me on his back and launched into the sky. I scrabbled for a handhold, gasping for air. My stomach lurched and my heart drummed as I struggled to find a secure position on my knees. It was nothing like riding a horse—because of the keltoar’s size, straddling his back was impossible. Desperate for purchase I grabbed Ciera’s fur with both hands.

  ‘You’ve got it,’ Ciera reassured me, sensing my near-panic.

  We ascended slowly as Ciera’s wings beat hard against the winds rising from the canyon. It seemed impossibly difficult—there had to be some kind of magic involved in keeping so large a creature in the air.

  We rose slowly but steadily until we reached a dizzying height. I shuffled forward so I could grab the gold strap, wishing there was something holding me on. Ciera laid his wings flat and plummeted down towards the canyon. My insides gave a sickening, yet delicious, lurch. The hair on my arms stood up. At the last possible moment Ciera curved in an arc and used his momentum to carry him upwards. Sensing my fear turn to thrills he gave a whoop of delight. The crowd cheered. Devlan and Gieri and their Sleffionkin, Rinshock and Annaseld, flew up to join us.

  Ciera swooped down and up again. It was a magnificent feeling, bringing back the faintest memories of being swung around someone’s head as a child, smiling and laughing.

  ‘I don’t know what’s taking Thita so long,’ Ciera said.

  The orange skyearl shot suddenly into the air and a trail of cloud followed him. He flew up and around in many loops until the sky was knotted with shrouds. Sarlice put her foot on the first solid substance inside the shroud and climbed. Thita had made a kind of white stair inside his shroud.

  Rinshock, Annaseld and Ciera danced through the air, weaving around Thita’s loops and coming dangerously close to Sarlice’s head.

  Once she had climbed to the top, Sarlice ran the length of Thita’s shroud and peered excitedly over the edges when they came into view. Thita played tag with her until she could run no more. Ciera gave a great laugh of affection.

  ‘Sarlice will never ride the back of her Sleffion-kin, but Thita is skilled with the shrouding.’

  Without warning, Sarlice dived off the edge of the shroud into the vast expanse of sky beneath her. Dread stabbed me so hard that it made Ciera flip around. His wings made a slapping sound as the wind buffeted us. Thita zipped beneath Sarlice’s falling body. A layer of shrouding appeared beneath her. It seemed to be falling at nearly the same speed. It slowed her fall and eventually stopped it altogether. She got to her feet with an expression of elation.

  Rinshock and Annaseld formed a figure-of-eight in the sky and picked up speed until their forms became blurred. In the distance behind them I saw a dark, winged shape.

  Feeling no nausea at the sight of the bird, I told Ciera, ‘I have conquered my fear.’

  He turned to look at the bird and a sense of alarm flowed through the waves. Was that my fear coming back or something else? Ciera roared and spread his wings. He struck out at an angle away from the bird, but he found a current of wind up high that sent us in a straight line towards it. The landscape below me looked like a platter of food, salted with small towns and peppered with dark rainforests. Ciera roared again. This time the sense of alarm came directly from him.

  That was no bird.

  It was a Zeika trespasser.

  The dragon wheeled when it spotted us and flew back the way it had come. Ciera chased the dragon until his wings were aching. He soared on and on. No matter what I said, he would not stop and rest.

  He had called for help through the waves, but so far no other skyearls had been able to keep up with us. The distance between us and the dragon was gradually decreasing.

  ‘We’re gaining on him,’ he said. ‘The Zeika’s concentration must be wearing thin.’

  His words were shot through with pain from his straining wings. A tendon contracted in his wing.

  Panic!

  His body twitched sideways and down, falling, twisting. He tucked in his other wing and duck-dived. I couldn’t see the ground for the clouds, but I could imagine what it would be like to fall from this height. If it was the magic of Krii that kept Ciera aloft ordinarily, why then could his body fail him at a time like this?

  Ciera struggled with the cramped limb. My breath whooshed out of me and I clenched my fists tightly around the gold strap. Ciera shook himself and finally opened his wings.

  ‘Krii is not one to spoon-feed us through life,’ he said. ‘He allows Zei to bring challenges, but only those we are already equipped to face. And face it we must, learning always to call on Him.’

  Ciera’s dive turned into a graceful curve that swept us upwards again. The dragon was a speck in the middle-distance. The great cliffs of Tanza were visible through gaps in the clouds. The sheer wall of rock was topped by a veil of purple that shimmered against the teal sky. I hadn’t realised how close we were to the boundary, or rather, how fast Ciera could fly. The dragon shot over the border with alarming speed and disappeared into the distance. Ciera blew out a great wisp of cloud and landed on it to rest.

  ‘I’m sorry to take you away from the Bonding Ceremony,’ he said, ‘but I needed to be sure that dragon was only a scout.’

  ‘How can you be sure now?’ I asked.

  ‘If there was a Zeika camp inside the borders of Tanza, that dragon would have headed straight for it. The Zeika on its back will need to land very soon or he risks losing his concentration.’

  ‘That sounds similar to when a Rada morphs,’ I observed.

  Ciera regarded me thoughtfully. ‘Yes. But when a dragon rider loses his concentration, the conjured dragon vanishes and he falls to his death.’

  ‘Can’t they simply conjure the dragon and send it off flying and look through its eyes while they stay safely on the ground?’

  Ciera nodded his enormous head. ‘Yes, far-conjurers can. But they are fewer and most cannot do it from any great distance.’

  ‘I thought the borders of Tanza were protected by Krii,’ I said after a while. If not then what was the barrier shield for?

  ‘They are, or the Zeikas would be pouring in here by the dozen. As it stands, they usually take some time to create a strong enough spirit circle to break the barrier. For one scout to get through, it probably took the blood of many animals or even a human being.’

  ‘But why would you use a barrier that could be broken by human death?’ I asked.

  He shook his head. ‘It is not so simple. Zei’s powers in this world were greatly reduced when Krii gave his life and the great seal was broken. But the power of love, shown mightily in one person’s sacrifice for another, is a property of this world that cannot be changed. It is what allows us to go to Shamayim after we die. But Zei is notorious for copying Krii’s magic with dark tricks of his own. Death—especially sacrificial death—can be used against the powers of Krii’s holy magic.’

  ‘What do you mean by “sacrificial death”?’

  ‘Our spies tell us that the Zeikas take entire families to the wall. There, they threaten the adults with the deaths of their children or younger siblings. Consequently, there are many that offer themselves in place of a loved one. This kind of death is a “sacrificial death” like Krii’s, which holds far more power than if the Zeikas massacred the entire family. With only five or six sacrificial deaths, the Zeikas can breach the shield long enough to get a whole group of tyraks through.’

  I recoiled from him, with a look of outrage. ‘How can you allow it? Turn off the barrier shield altogether.’

  ‘Do you think our milita
ry so powerful?’ He shook his massive head. ‘The shield is all that stands between us and annihilation. If it were ever to come down, the Zeikas would attack us constantly until the entire realm was in ruin.’

  ‘What are you doing about it then?’

  ‘Tanza’s army, the Defenders, employs many scouts to interrupt the Zeika raiding parties. There are reports every few days of such encounters. We do everything in our power to disallow it, but every now and then a few scouts or a group of Zeikas get through. Sometimes the Zeikas launch a campaign against us and entire armies get in. If it weren’t for that shield, we would not be here today.’

  ‘Some people would say it is Krii that allows it,’ I said carefully, ‘because he could stop it.’

  ‘Certainly,’ Ciera replied. ‘And one day he will put an end to all death and suffering. For the time being, though, we have the opportunity to grow and influence others to come to know Krii.He is in contact with us in our everyday lives, even now, but he will not interfere directly with Zei until the end times.’

  I felt something deep inside me confirming Ciera’s words—I knew them to be true. I accepted the way things were in the world and a tranquil feeling followed that realisation.

  ‘Meantime,’ I said, ‘he uses people and Astor-kin to achieve good works on Chryne.’

  ‘We who understand this and accept the call are privileged,’ Ciera agreed.

  I thought on this for a long time as we waited for him to recover from the flight. After a while, Ciera went on speaking.

  ‘We fight the Zeikas off every few years, but over time they have gradually grown stronger. In many of our cities, the last battle nearly spelled their doom. The Zeikas killed thousands. You will find many ruins around Tanza—despite the protective barrier. Our people have realised they are safer in well-fortified towns.’