Sand of the Soul

by Voronica Whitney-Robinson

  He sat up and tugged at his black tunic, as though he were readying himself for an evening out, brushing at various imagined stains and dust.

  “I really can’t be bothered by worrisome details right now, though. So,” he said, directing his speech back to the gem, “pack your bags quickly and bring yourself and that Calishite beauty here.”

  He rose in a dignified manner and clasped his hands behind his back.

  “I appreciate the aid your butler has given you, so that I am not kept waiting too long,” he acknowledged as he began to walk around the stone like a schoolmaster delivering a lesson. “And I appreciate that the gate is all Cale has given you. I would not want him to give you more. In fact,” Ciredor grudgingly admitted, “I would not want to have to deal with him to get to you. There is something about him …” he trailed away thoughtfully, “something I can’t read.”

  Snapping himself from his trance, Ciredor studied the room and the figures beyond. Like a drill instructor inspecting his troops, he marched past each one. As if they were pieces of a puzzle, he made sure once again that each fit his needs. When he was satisfied with what he saw, the mage returned to the gem.

  “Bring the crown for my queen here, little Tazi,” he ordered. “Bring the last piece to my gift. Once it is here, I need only wait until the new moon. A tenday from now and everything changes. And, of course, you are mine.”

  CHAPTER 4

  PASSAGES

  “Will this rain never cease?” Tazi hissed.

  She, Steorf, and Fannah stood before a brick tallhouse on Morrow Street in the Edis quarter. It was well past night’s heart, and most of the residences that lined the street were dark. A fine drizzle misted the air.

  “It doesn’t really matter whether it stops or not,” Steorf snapped. “It’s not as though you’re suffering for it.”

  Tazi gave him a sharp look before turning to pace a little along the street as she ostensibly looked for guards. Steorf was correct, though. As well as having chosen the black leathers that she had spent the previous day oiling, Tazi also sported a travel cloak, as did Steorf and Fannah. From her head to her ankles, she was protected from the rain by the spell that was woven into the fabric. The precipitation rolled off her. She wasn’t going to end up drenched like the other night, but Tazi felt the need to say something, and complaining about the weather was the most obvious and mundane topic of choice.

  “I’m going to climb the wall and see if there are any guards we need to know about,” she offered.

  “I thought your manservant,” Steorf stressed that particular title, “guaranteed that this building would be virtually empty for the night.”

  “There are no guarantees that you can trust,” Tazi reminded him. “You should know that by now.”

  “There are a few, Thazienne,” he answered quietly.

  Not having a quick retort, she moved past him and crossed the street toward the low wall that surrounded the tallhouse. In one fluid motion, Tazi swung herself onto the top of the wall and crouched low. It felt good to be in motion, even this little bit. She felt ready to jump out of her skin and had a bad taste in her mouth. Tazi knew she couldn’t afford to make any mistakes for Fannah’s sake, if no one else’s.

  Glancing back at her two companions, Tazi studied their differences. Steorf, tall and muscular, dressed head to toe in black, looked most formidable, and, Tazi sensed, he was wound tight as a spring. Fannah, on the other hand, stood there as though she were waiting for some visitor to come calling. While she was also dressed in dark tones, with her thick hair tied back in a single, waist-length braid, Tazi noticed there was nothing furtive about her mannerisms. Fannah just seemed to be waiting.

  Nothing disturbs her, thought Tazi.

  In fact, the only time Tazi ever recalled seeing Fannah shaken was on the night of their first meeting. Tazi, dressed in her leathers, was on her way to the Kit to plan what turned out to be the terrifying rendezvous with Ciredor when she heard shrill screams. She ducked into the alley from which the sounds originated to see that two sailors from Selgaunt Bay were accosting a beautiful foreigner. On a whim, Tazi decided to break things up when she saw how badly the foreigner was defending herself.

  In the midst of the altercation, the woman had ample time to take advantage of the “young man’s” rescue attempt and slip away, but Fannah had stayed behind. Tazi’s first thought had been that the woman was in shock or fearful that her rescuer might be more formidable to deal with than the two drunk fish from the bay and was afraid to move. After some brief swordplay, Tazi left the men bloodied but alive and turned her attention to the object of their drunken desires to see why she still lingered behind.

  The raven-haired woman’s clothes had been torn, but other than that, she herself was free from injury. On closer scrutiny, Tazi saw that the Calishite woman had ice-white eyes, and she correctly deduced that the stranger was completely blind. Tazi had assumed at the time that Fannah had stayed in the alley while she drove off the attackers because she was sightless. She suspected that Fannah wouldn’t have known where to flee. Over time, however, Tazi had been forced to reconsider that theory.

  While it was true that Fannah was blind, she was more than capable of accurate vision. It had only taken a moment for her to “see” through Tazi’s disguise that night. While so many of the sighted people around her thought Tazi was a young man, a disguise she was very proud of, Fannah knew differently through smell and touch. She had been able to leave the alley at any time during the fight. However, Fannah had chosen to remain. She had given her trust and safety to Tazi’s abilities.

  She’s given it to me all over again, Tazi marveled. If she’s this sure of me, then maybe I can be, too.

  No one was in sight. Realizing that, once again, Cale was right and there was no exterior guard to the manse, Tazi silently slid down the wall and rejoined her cohorts.

  “It looks as though everything is quiet outside,” she told them. “I think it would be best to have you, Steorf, check for the most silent way inside.” Tazi spoke his name aloud in deference to Fannah’s blindness. “You’re the best one to figure out the right path to ease our way in.”

  It was Steorf’s turn to look sharply at her.

  “You want me to ‘ease’ our way in?” he asked a little incredulously. “We haven’t done that in a long time.”

  “I’m sure you’re still good at it, or have you lost your touch?” she asked with innocent eyes.

  She wasn’t sure but Tazi thought she saw Steorf’s strong jaw twitch in the hint of a smile.

  “Oh,” he answered, “I think you’ll find I’m still good at it … and a few things more.”

  With that, he moved off to survey the grounds with a different eye, leaving the women alone for a moment.

  “So you and Steorf are back to ‘easing’ your way around?” Fannah questioned.

  Tazi looked at her in surprise.

  “I’m blind,” Fannah explained in her melodic voice, “not deaf.”

  Tazi couldn’t resist a giggle at Fannah’s jab.

  “You don’t miss a thing,” she replied. “You’d think I would remember that by now.” Taking a deep breath, she continued, “It has been a long time since he and I have done something like this together. I’d be lying to you if I said I wasn’t worried.”

  “You’d be a fool to ever say something like that,” Fannah corrected her. Laying her delicate hand on Tazi’s sinewy arm, she continued, “And you are no fool, Thazienne. You never have been.”

  Fannah wasn’t able to see the slightly grateful look that Tazi gave her, but Tazi was sure she knew just the same. Since the beginning of their unusual friendship, Tazi had always felt that Fannah could look right through her, blind or not. That hadn’t changed over time. She reached over and quickly patted Fannah’s hand, almost embarrassing herself with the familiar gesture.

  “Are you ladies ready?” Steorf asked with mock formality.

  He had slipped up behind them noiselessly. Tazi kn
ew he asked the question in jest, but it was appropriate nonetheless. If they weren’t ready, this whole crossing would end disastrously. She weighed her options one last time and gazed hard at her companions. There was no other choice.

  “Let’s bring this to Ciredor,” Tazi finally answered, “and bring it to an end.”

  “Then let’s be on our way,” Steorf said, tilting his head. “If you don’t mind,” he added after a moment, “I’ll make a quick pass to muffle the clanging your rapiers are making, Thazienne, before you alert everyone that we’re coming.”

  Tazi whirled to face him, an angry retort on the tip of her tongue. She knew well enough her Sembian guardblades were as silent as she was and was about to remind Steorf of that fact in no uncertain terms. But the expression Steorf wore revealed he had been teasing her.

  That’s twice now, she thought.

  Her lips curved up in spite of herself.

  “You are touchy, aren’t you?” was all he said.

  Steorf swung up onto the wall and reached a hand down. Tazi laced her fingers together and gave Fannah a leg up to him. Soon enough all three were crouched along the wall. Steorf motioned to what appeared to be a servants’ entrance and through a series of quick gestures let Tazi know that was probably their best chance. Fannah remained silent throughout the whole exchange. Tazi passed along their plans to the Calishite by pressing her finger into Fannah’s hand and drawing a few key symbols. Tazi knew Fannah would not speak aloud again until they did.

  There was only a small garden of stones between the wall and the servants’ door. Aesthetically pleasing with a very intricate pattern, the garden also made a very simple and effective alarm. It was much harder to cross silently than a garden of dirt and grass, and any rocks knocked out of place would reveal an intruder had been through it. Tazi touched Steorf’s arm, but he was already one step ahead. With a practiced gesture, he made the magical pass he had earlier joked about. Thanks to that spell, the three were able to walk a few inches above the ground and not disturb a single pebble.

  When they reached the door, Tazi motioned for Steorf to step aside. Certain there weren’t any wards on the door, Tazi reached under her shirt sleeve, took out her picks, and began to work on the lock. Three quick twists and it sprang open.

  The right tool for the right job, Tazi thought with some small satisfaction, sliding the picks back into their guard on her arm.

  Steorf stepped into the inky blackness first and spread out his hands. After a moment of silence, he whispered, “I don’t believe anyone is here.”

  “Just to be on the safe side,” Tazi said quietly to Steorf, “let’s limit the amount of magic you use.”

  She wanted to make no mistakes and part of her concern came from the fact that she wasn’t certain how well Steorf could control his magic.

  Taking her cue from her two companions, Fannah asked aloud, “Why should we do that?”

  “Well,” Tazi replied, “none of my informants have had any dealings with the sorcerer who controls this gate. We can’t be certain that he doesn’t have some kind of affiliation with Ciredor. If Steorf doesn’t know anything about him, we have to assume the worst. The fewer traces we leave behind, magical or otherwise, the better.”

  Tazi couldn’t see, but Steorf had stood a little straighter when she mentioned his name.

  “Do you know where the gate is?” Fannah asked.

  “Cale wasn’t certain, but he thought it was located in the cellar,” Tazi answered, swallowing hard.

  Silently, she dreaded going down there. She had always harbored a fear of cellars, which were often traps. After the sight she had seen in the bowels of the one Ciredor had occupied, Tazi hadn’t stepped down into a cellar since.

  “We’ll have to make our way carefully,” Steorf warned, after bumping into a doorframe. “I believe the owner has some kind of shadow spell on the tallhouse. The darkness is absolute.”

  Before either Steorf or Tazi could say any more, Fannah took the lead. Out of all of them, she was the best equipped to maneuver through the house. She was the only one not affected by the darkness, having been blind since birth. Fannah lightly clasped Tazi’s hand, and Steorf followed directly behind. Tazi was always caught off-guard by the depth perception Fannah possessed. Her ability to discern the dimensions and spatial relationship between objects bordered on amazing. This time was no exception. Fannah moved through the house as though she had lived there all her life.

  Passing carefully through what was most likely the servants’ quarters, the trio made their way to the kitchen. It reeked of rancid fat and mold. Tazi’s stomach, already in turmoil, roiled at the smells. She wondered how long it had been since the kitchen had been cleaned, or how long it had been since any servants had passed through the building at all. She was hard pressed not to sneeze at the dust they stirred up.

  A few more steps and Fannah led them into a pantry. Tazi dismally noticed it didn’t smell much better there, either. Fannah felt along the shelves with deft fingers, passing over spoiled supplies and ruined goods until she discovered the door handle to the cellar. She opened it just a crack, to test the integrity of the hinges. They, at least, had been given some attention recently, and the door opened soundlessly. After one step down the equally noiseless stairs, Fannah stopped and Tazi nearly walked into her.

  “What’s wrong?” Tazi asked into Fannah’s ear.

  “Something smells down here,” she replied.

  “It’s probably just more moldy food,” Tazi reassured her.

  Fannah still hesitated. “I can smell that, but there’s something else,” she said.

  “What?” asked Steorf, who had moved to share the step with Tazi.

  “I can smell old food and something else. Something like animal waste.”

  “We can’t stop now,” Tazi urged.

  Steorf moved past Fannah and continued the rest of the way down the stairs, both Tazi and Fannah trailing in his wake. The moment he reached the base of the stairs, a light sprang up. Everyone froze.

  Bathed in the weak glow, Tazi could see that the cellar was not very big. Only thirty feet long and twenty feet wide, the room didn’t concern Tazi. She had been in bigger traps before. The walls were made up of dark, rough-hewn river rock and constantly seeped moisture. The stones were slick with mold and slime. The smell of decay permeated the entire room. Glancing around quickly, Tazi could see there was no other furniture or staples housed in there, save for the prize for which they had been searching.

  A stone archway taller than Steorf and nearly as wide as it was tall nestled in the far corner of the room. Aside from its size, the archway was unremarkable to look at. Tazi was able to see through the opening of the portal and make out the far wall directly behind it.

  “That’s it,” she said, moving to stand beside Steorf. “Let’s go.”

  Steorf put his arm out in front of her.

  “No,” he said, “Fannah was right. There is something else down here. See?”

  He pointed to a bowl near the gate that was overflowing with what looked like food scraps. Tazi could barely make out the dish.

  “There’s no creature here now,” she reasoned. Turning around in a complete circle, she proclaimed, “We’re alone. There’s nowhere for anyone to hide.”

  Suddenly, a low growl filled the cellar. The threesome faced the gate in unison in time to see a large, gray creature slink around from behind it. Tazi was amazed and somewhat startled. Since she had been attacked by one long ago, she harbored a deep seated fear of dogs, but this was something more than a simple canine.

  Slightly larger than the average mastiff, the dark-furred creature’s eyes glowed a deep red. As its lips pulled back in a warning snarl, Tazi could see that its mouth was filled with what looked like an impossible number of teeth. As it swung its massive head from Tazi to Steorf to Tazi again, it clicked its teeth with deliberate slowness.

  “But you could see straight through that gate,” Tazi said, “and that thing wasn’t the
re a moment ago.”

  “Gates can twist perception as well as time and distance,” Steorf explained. “I’ll deal with this.”

  No sooner did Steorf move forward than the dog-beast sprang from beside the gate. In two quick bounds, the hound, as large as a man, had covered the distance between them.

  Steorf raised his arms and spoke a word that Tazi didn’t recognize. A crackle of light exploded from his hands toward the animal. Whatever spell he thought was going to happen didn’t, though. Undaunted, the beast knocked him flat, tearing a good chunk out of the leather gauntlet Steorf wore. Fortunately for him, he had thrown his hands in front of his face in a reflexive defense. The dog shook the glove mercilessly and circled around for another pass.

  “Do something,” Tazi screamed, but the burly mage half sat and stared at his own hands as though dumbstruck. “Your sword!” Tazi yelled.

  The beast, no longer content to shred Steorf’s clothing, leaped once again onto the mage.

  Steorf, knocked back onto the ground, grabbed the hound’s collar with both hands. He was barely able to keep the snapping jaws from his eyes and was losing ground fast.

  Tazi, realizing that Steorf couldn’t draw his weapon to defend himself, jumped into action. Shoving Fannah back, she ripped off her travel cloak, wrapped part of it around her left arm, and threw herself at the tangle of fur and friend.

  Landing nearly astride the animal, Tazi managed to lock her left arm around the dog’s throat and throw part of her cloak over its muzzle with her right hand. Between that and the momentum from her leap, she was able to wrench the beast off of Steorf.

  Tazi stole a quick glance at the young mage to see if he was all right. Steorf looked uninjured but still dazed. She wondered just when was the last time he had to rely on his physical abilities but didn’t dwell on the thought. She didn’t have time for more.

  Barely able to contain the snarling monster that was at least twice her weight, Tazi found herself thrown against the wall. The wind was momentarily knocked out of her, and the dog was able to use the opportunity to free its face from the confines of her cloak.