Tanza

by Amanda Greenslade

  Strong he may be, in the real world, but here his weakness was exposed. Despite his frailty and hindrances, the Zeika rose up to fight me. I drew Fyschs from the sheath at my side and held him at the ready. Curses and threats flew from the Zeika’s mouth. He made casting gestures and ward runes, but his magic did not harm us. Krii watched over me as I laid a hand on the struggling figure. Despite the offer of mercy and forgiveness, he refused, fighting with every ounce of pride he could muster. Dark scratches formed on my arms and face, stinging like poisoned dagger-slashes. The Zeika screamed at me, blinded by his hatred and filled with the thoughts and desires of a dozen demons.

  The demons retreated as I raised my other hand to strike. The battle had been won. They frantically tried to leave the retiring vessel to find another. But I crushed them all with one sweep of my razor-toothed sword.

  ‘It is over for this one,’ Krii said and the mournful howling trailed him out into the bleak darkness.

  I opened my eyes to Ciera’s enormous blue one, peering into my face with concern. Fyschs was in one hand and my face ached even though there was not a scratch on me.

  ‘It is done,’ I whispered huskily. ‘Krii came and we offered the Zeika freedom from the demons. He chose to die instead.’

  Ciera chuckled lovingly at me, perplexed and relieved at the same time.

  ‘All that effort to entrap one conjurer,’ he said. ‘How will we ever succeed?’

  ‘Don’t be a pessimist,’ Tiaro scolded him. ‘Krii has shown us the way.’

  ‘What in the trees has just happened?’ Jett had clambered down from Ptemais’ back and crawled to my side.

  I tried to explain it with words, but a feeling of pure joy bubbled out of me. I found myself laughing with relief and astonishment. Tears streamed from my eyes, for joy and then for sorrow. The emotion of encountering the spirit of Krii so closely made my entire body shudder. And hearing him speak! This wasn’t something that many Kriites experienced. The sight of him padding away through the darkened plains made my heart turn, but my spirit filled with purpose. Krii was still with us. He would be there any time we called.

  ‘Krii showed us the way,’ I said aloud for Jett’s sake. ‘We should let the other Anzaii know how to do that.’

  ‘What did you do?’ Jett asked.

  I replied somewhat breathlessly, ‘I couldn’t really see the point in dispelling. They’ll just conjure something else.’

  Ciera scratched his side with the claws on one back leg. ‘He used the far-conjurer’s link to the dragon to locate him in the spirit-realm and entrap him.’

  ‘You killed him?’ Jett pondered.

  Before I could explain further, a deep growl-hiss emanated from my Sleffion-kin. ‘Zeikas nearby,’ Ciera warned.

  He advanced into the valley before us with a deafening roar. Dark shapes were crowded in the sunken ground before the city motte. Ciera drew one of his spears and swung it before him like an immense scythe. The dark shapes fell back, uncertain perhaps.

  ‘Careful, there may be more,’ I said.

  He jumped forward suddenly, spreading his wings to carry him across the intervening space. His spear swept across the ground again, knocking at least six men flying. From out of the darkness behind the mob came fifteen theros. The hairy beasts knuckle-ran at Ciera all at once and slashed at him with their long sabre-like claws. Despite their much smaller size, the theros occupied Ciera long enough for the remaining Zeikas to retreat.

  The sound of Ciera’s teeth chopping the theros in half filled the air. Growls and screams accompanied the battle and black blood sprayed over Ciera’s purple-blue fur and feathers until they glistened like oil. His spear broke in the stout body of one of the theros. He threw down the haft and roared thunderously. The final two theros ignored the warning, throwing themselves at him with reckless abandon. He swept them together, knocking them senseless. He pressed them to the ground with his front feet and beckoned me forward.

  His laboured breathing steamed the night, leaving small platforms of shroud in the air around him. The animal stink of his exertion engulfed me, fuelling a sense of rage that was totally inhuman. The corpses of the theros he’d slain evaporated into nothingness before my eyes. Even the blood hissed, popped and bubbled away. The slain Zeikas, however, had stiffened already; some had shrivelled beyond the age of an ordinary human, the last vestiges of Zei’s ‘gift’ of long life gone forever. Even now they paid the ultimate price for their choice as finally they met Zei on his terms alone.

  I clenched my fists with my arms out straight, stretching my muscles and trying to vent some of my pent-up fury. The flax cloak felt heavy on my shoulders and my face stung even though there were no true injuries; perhaps the psychological effects of being attacked in the spirit-realm were stronger than I anticipated. Still, I approached the writhing theros that were still alive.

  I extended my hands and touched both of the hot, moist bodies. One vanished under my touch so rapidly that I didn’t have a chance to entrap the far-conjurer. I dived after the other; struggling to swim through the murkiness of the spirit-realm to locate his mind. I caught him like a fish, but he slipped easily out of my grip. The scenery around us blurred and the water receded, leaving behind the dark, dry desert that I had encountered before. The chalky red dirt stretched for miles in every direction, dotted with small and large stones. Severe snow-capped mountains blockaded the horizon and lightning danced in the cloud-bruised sky.

  Unlike the first conjurer I had faced, this one turned to face me with a sneer. His form was somewhat distorted to my eyes in that place; he wavered before me like a black flag in a moonless night. Looking down, I saw that my boot was firmly placed over a corner of his robe, pinning him in place. I realised that this was the tenuous link with which I held him. As he turned, his body came right up against me, yet I dared not move and take my foot off his robe.

  This Zeika’s spirit-form was tall; he stared down at me with hatred, his whiskers scratching my temple.

  Before I had a chance to decide what to do, his hands came around my throat.

  ‘You will die,’ I croaked. ‘Make peace with your creator before it’s too late.’

  He struck me with the back of his meaty fist. If it was possible for bones to break in that place I was sure my jaw had been crushed. The ground rushed up to meet me. The impact shocked me senseless and still the Zeika attacked. He kicked me until there was no part of my body left untouched.

  ‘I am immortal,’ the Zeika told me, letting spittle fly with his words. ‘Unlike you—pitiful slaves of a lesser god, nothing more.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ I managed to say through split and swollen lips.

  He swore at me in Reltic, still unable to detach his robe from my grip; it was caught on part of my armour.

  A breeze ruffled through the darkened plains, bringing with it the fresh, rough scent of the wild. In my battered state, I barely heard the sound of a wolf howling.

  Krii rushed through the scene faster than my stinging eyes could see. He seemed even larger this time. The Zeika’s scream was the last thing I heard as the robe tore free and he was severed from the living world.

  As I came back to myself, Jett was hauling me to my feet and propelling me towards my Sleffion-kin. Naltoch squawked from above.

  ‘Zeikas, zeikas!’ he warned us through the waves.

  ‘They mustn’t like what you’re doing, Astor,’ Jett said. ‘There’re more coming.’

  Wiping my hand across my jaw to ensure it was whole, I groggily replied, ‘Let them come. There is no limit to Krii’s power.’

  ‘Yes, Talon, but there is a limit to ours. You need rest,’ Ciera nudged me with his nose to push me up into the battle-seat. On the far side of Ciera’s body rose a tide of blinking lights. The wind shifted, carrying with it the stench of Zeika flames and conjurations. Up from the valley came what had to be the bulk of their army. Too numerous to count, the black-green ranks swelled up around the south east corner of Condii, surrounding us. C
rossbow bolts and balls of fire rocketed into the air just as Ciera and Ptemais sprang out of reach.

  The skyearls carried us well clear of the approaching Zeikas. Anger pulsed through me, bringing with it a heady rush. I wanted so badly to turn and fight. I watched the Zeikas move catapults into place, launching a barrage of rock missiles at the southern tower. The sound of stone striking stone and crashing to the ground spurred Ciera on. A Tanzan flying squad rushed past us, arrowing straight for the catapults.

  In perfect formation, the eight skyearls whipped suddenly and knocked one of the catapults over. Conjured dragons swarmed up from the valley in much greater numbers, catching several of the skyearls by surprise. The others wheeled away, forced to leave their comrades to die.

  ‘We can help,’ I said to Ciera.

  ‘Nay,’ he replied calmly, ‘We must get back to the others and tell them what you’ve learned.’

  ‘The strike force?’

  ‘Aye.’

  ‘What remains of it.’

  Chapter Fifteen—Tactics

  Ciera’s enormous wings conveyed us to the shroud he had made in very little time. Only a handful of people remained standing watch. The rest were either deployed or in the healing ward. After I dismounted, Ciera walked the length of the shroud telling the other strike force Anzaii what I had done to the far-conjurers. Jett, Naltoch and Ptemais stood behind me, on alert.

  Colonel Aerilaya, the Anzaii who was presently in charge, gestured for me to approach.

  ‘Welcome back, Talon,’ she said. ‘I hear you’ve found a way to attack the conjurations at their source. Good work.’

  ‘Thank you, Colonel,’ I replied.

  ‘It’s probably a good thing we didn’t attempt to train you ourselves,’ Aerilaya said. ‘You might have been limited in your thinking if we had.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She had a head full of dark brown plaits, shrewd eyes and a piggish face. ‘You and Tiaro have come at the battle with a fresh perspective. You can learn from each other and from Krii as you go along.’

  ‘Hasn’t anybody ever done what I did to those Zeikas before?’

  ‘If they have, it was never recorded,’ she confirmed. ‘Wave communication and dispelling was considered the limit, but you seem to have discovered a new ability. What did Ciera call it?’

  ‘Entrapment,’ I replied, and explained to her what I had done.

  When I was finished, she said, ‘Tyba and Amadeus have asked to see you, so you should go to the healing ward now.’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am,’ I said, giving her the Tanzan greeting.

  By this time Ciera had finished talking with the skyearls on the shroud so the two of us walked on side by side. As we neared the edge of the shroud, Condii city came into view. Beyond the walls, Condii was a neat, orange-stoned place with mostly black tiled rooves and slate-gray cobblestones on the roadways. I could even see pasture and clumps of trees behind the taller buildings.

  Like Telby City, Condii enclosed a sustainable farm district, vineyard and many small, recreational gardens. The main road spiralled around Condii parallel to the outer wall. In four loops, the road reached the central keep, a near-impenetrable fortress guarded by six towers and a moat wider than Ciera was tall.

  It was a relief to land inside the relative-safety of the walls; I rubbed my eyes and yawned. Ciera and Ptemais proceeded down Spiral Lane West towards the healers’ building, the second-largest building in Condii.

  The entrance to the healer was an immense stone archway high enough for Ciera to walk through on all fours. Heads turned from innumerable alcoves to the side, watching the Emperor skyearl and his Astor human-kin, me.

  Ciera stopped in a large chamber with a domed ceiling and lowered his left shoulder so I could slide down. Jett told me he was going to try to find a quiet place for me to rest. I looked around for the poisoned strike force Anzaii, but couldn’t see them anywhere. How many had Corypha murdered?

  I tried to take in my surroundings. The walls were ivory-white with gold frames ribbing the ceiling like the spokes on a gigantic wheel. The mezzanine floor of the chamber was crowded with skyearls of every shade from silver to gold, green to red, white to black. Except for the healer-skyearls, every one had an injury; some more gruesome than others. Here was a skyearl with a crushed tail, there a broken wing stripped of feathers, here a missing forelimb and a gashed face, and there a completely blinded male skyearl crouched angrily in the corner, tail lashing.

  Ciera made words with some of them but, over the cacophony of cries and roars, I couldn’t really hear. I listened through our mental link for a time but something caught my attention. Through one of the smaller archways two storeys up was Tyba, face in his hands, shuddering with silent sobs.

  My heart sank—we must have lost another Anzaii. Ciera sensed my desire to join the prince so, mid-conversation, he casually reached around and put both forepaws around my waist, claws clicking together, but not touching me. With no sign of effort he lifted me up to the ledge that led into the room Tyba was in.

  I said nothing as I made my entrance. The ceiling here was not much higher than my head. Rows of beds lined the wall ahead of me, some tended by human healers. Despite the herbs strewn on posts and fresh reeds on the floor, the room stank of the flux. Tyba braced himself against the wall to stand. His clothing was soiled and bloody. After some time he caught his breath enough to speak.

  ‘Colonel A.S. Berodukanis just seizured and died,’ he said plainly.

  Emotion welled up in me, mostly in the form of anger.

  ‘What treachery is this?’ I shouted, punching the air in front of me.

  Tyba continued mercilessly on, all emotion drained from his words. ‘Abirim, Mnason and Phoenicia died not long before. Of three dozen Anzaii in our company only twenty survive.’

  He gestured at the beds along the wall where there were several bodies covered with shrouds. The others who had succumbed to the poisoned foodstuffs were going through alternating states of vomiting and an exhausted restless sleep.

  ‘That’s no way for a warrior to go,’ I said darkly. ‘Have you apprehended Corypha yet?’

  ‘As soon as you accused him I sent someone looking, but everyone is so busy, they aren’t paying much attention to who is coming and going.’

  ‘What about Jaalta,’ I asked.

  Tyba answered so quickly, I could tell he’d already thought this through. ‘She is on the battlefront dispelling conjurations and sending stray thoughts into the heads of the Zeikas to distract them. Perhaps, later, she can find Corypha.’

  Tyba’s adjutant, Lieutenant S.T. Samos bustled into the room carrying an armload of fresh clothing and linen. He put it on a chair nearby.

  ‘I’ve arranged a room for you two houses down, sire. Oh, greetings to you, Astor. A room is not available for you yet. I may be able to find a bed somewhere in—’

  ‘Lieutenant, Jett is already looking into it, thank you.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Tyba told us. ‘Talon, you and Jett will share my room.’

  Samos hesitated, drew a breath and nodded.

  ‘Yes of course sire. I’m sure the hostess will be honoured to have not one, but three extra guests despite the fact that the house was full even before we arrived.’

  Tyba ignored the jibe of his aide. He moved away leaving Samos to re-gather his armload.

  ‘Can I carry anything?’ I asked.

  ‘No thank you. Though you might want to convey to Ptemais or Naltoch that Jett can stop looking for a place for the two of you to stay.’

  Apparently word had spread about my new ability to mind-speak with other skyearls. I wondered what this would mean for my place in the strike force. Would they reposition me into the communications division, stuck in a room transferring messages?

  ‘The communications division is our greatest advantage over the Zeikas,’ Ciera told me, from down below. ‘Do not belittle them.’

  I rolled my eyes but decided I was too tired to
argue.

  I shifted my attention to the other skyearls within range of my wave-perceptions.

  When I located Ptemais, I told him about the prince’s offer.

  ‘Jett was having some difficulties,’ he replied with some relief. ‘We have never seen Condii this crowded before.’

  Tyba was already moving through the room, touching the bedridden people on the forehead and uttering prayers for their recovery. Samos followed him, stammering about what resources he would need to chase up to accommodate both of us. I smiled, thanking Krii for people like Samos and feeling glad that I was not one of them.

  We acquired items from several rooms on our way out of the healers’ building. When we reached the street, a distant booming could be heard. The sky seemed greener in the direction of the south east tower. Foreboding crept up in me. I wanted to respond with action, but my body was heavy with fatigue. The days spent waiting, filled with tension, followed by my near-poisoning and the stress of learning the Anzaii entrapment skill had taken their toll.

  Despite the late hour, there were scores of people about on the street, mostly going to and from the healers’ building. The barracks was also nearby and I could hear the shouts of the commanders and the roaring of angry skyearls. Wings swept over us frequently, beating a pattern through the air that was almost in time to the distant booming from the Zeikas’ attack.

  Lieutenant Samos knocked on the richly carved door to a house and was greeted by a very tall lady with a blond top-knot. She graciously ignored the state of Tyba’s clothing and exchanged the ritual Tanzan greeting with him. A young boy gestured to him from down the hall.

  ‘A tub and soap awaits you, sire, as was requested.’

  Tyba raised his eyebrow at Samos and followed the boy.

  ‘Astor Talon,’ Samos began, ‘allow me to introduce you to Pivorn.’

  ‘Oh my,’ she said. ‘An Astor have we? You are most welcome in my home.’