Nightborn

by Anders, Lou

  “He likes war, does he?” asked Thianna.

  “Oh no. He chafes under its yoke, but he has a duty.”

  “I’m sorry,” interrupted Karn. “Did you say he ‘borders on spectacular’? Why isn’t he just ‘Shambok the Spectacular’?

  “A very good question.” Shambok spoke from his throne. Karn and Thianna realized that the room had grown silent.

  The Uskirian leader stepped down from the dais and made his way to where they stood. As elaborate as all Uskirian dress appeared to be, his clothing was the most lavish yet.

  “I am only on the verge of being spectacular,” Shambok said. “I cannot be fully spectacular until I fulfill my destiny.”

  “What is your destiny?” asked Karn.

  “So pleased you asked.” The Uskirian leader beamed. Then Shambok clapped his hands. Musicians approached from the corner of the room, bearing a variety of lutes and flutes. They began to pluck and blow delicate notes. Then, to Karn and Thianna’s surprise, the Uskirian leader began to dance and to sing.

  “When I was young,

  Just a wee lad,

  My father said, ‘Shambok,

  All your siblings are bad.

  Kill them all

  Or they’ll get you.

  There’s room for only one at the top.

  There’s no place for number two.’ ”

  “What’s that instrument?” said Thianna, pointing at one of the long-necked lutes.

  “Shhh,” said Dargan. “It’s called a tanbur. Now, listen.”

  Suddenly, Shambok was joined by a line of backup dancers.

  “When you’re an Uskirian,

  There’s more to life than fun.

  You have to take the whole wide world

  With saber, scimitar, and cannon gun.

  The civilization that we bring

  Is such a fine and worthwhile thing….”

  Shambok twirled around the room now, cajoling various courtiers to join in the dance, while his backup dancers broke off into pairs and whirled around him.

  “When you’re Uskiri,

  You have to travel every sea.

  You have to conquer every land

  For the empire’s glory.”

  The lights in the tent dimmed. Servants used candles and small mirrors to cast a spotlight on Shambok, who twirled rapidly in a tight circle as he sang.

  “You’ve got to break the strait

  To fulfill your legacy.

  So you hammer at the walls

  Of the Sacred Gordion Supremacy.”

  “Ouch,” said Karn. “Shambok really forced the rhyme a bit there.”

  “Quiet,” Dargan said. “Music critics are often fed to the war pig.”

  “ ‘Conquer Gordasha.

  Open up the Sparkle Sea.

  You will be great.’

  And here Dad got a bit oracular.

  ‘When you do this thing,

  They’ll call you Shambok the Spectacular!’ ”

  Shambok ended in a dramatic leap to his knees, arms flung wide. Colorful ribbons burst from the corners of the room and crisscrossed in the air, and all the courtiers clapped.

  Awkwardly, because it seemed expected, Karn and Thianna clapped too.

  “That was…,” Thianna began.

  “Impressive,” Karn finished for her, before the frost giantess could say something rude. “That was truly impressive. You should be a dancer.”

  Shambok sighed.

  “Frankly, I’d rather dance than wage war, but how else is culture to be spread?”

  “I can think of several ways.”

  “Not available to us, I’m afraid. We Uskirians are charged with enlightening the world. Ti-Emur is an impatient god, for only when all peoples are brought together under the banner of the Uskiri can the god of war rest. He must lead, and the gods of wisdom and benevolence follow only in his wake. We were doing all right with it too, but then we got blocked at the Gordashan Strait. Dargan, why don’t you enlighten the barbarians?”

  Dargan bowed and spoke. “It was one hundred and fifty-four years ago that Yarak Uskir the Bone Breaker founded the Uskirian Empire. That was when he declared himself Uskir the Stupendous. He decreed that no Uskirian after him could hold so exalted a title unless they succeeded at opening up the Gordashan Strait so that the glories of the Uskiri could move into the Sparkle Sea and beyond. But none since have broken the double walls of Gordasha. However, Shambok Who Borders on Spectacular will triumph where all others failed.”

  Shambok nodded in acknowledgment of Dargan’s faith. “And so it’s my turn to hurl Uskirian bodies against the wall. It is a heavy burden, but one I must bear. Do you understand?”

  “Not really,” said Karn.

  “Maybe if I sang the song again,” Shambok said hopefully.

  “Not necessary,” Thianna said quickly.

  “Oh, very well,” Shambok replied, disappointed. “But by the Seven Sons of the Moon, dancing has made me hungry! Take the spies away, and we’ll figure out what to do about them later. Something gruesome, I imagine.”

  “What do you mean, ‘gruesome’?” asked Karn.

  “Torture, interrogation, that sort of thing,” said Shambok. “So unpleasant, but what choice do I have?”

  —

  “Are we friends?”

  Desstra had to shout to be heard above the noise of the wind and the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks.

  “What?” Tanthal shouted back.

  They were swooping low over the waters of the Sparkle Sea. The walls on the south side of the city, below the Great Chain that closed off the strait to Uskirian warships, were undermanned compared to the land walls and northern seawalls.

  “I said, are we friends?” Desstra yelled again. She ran her fingers over Flittermouse’s fur. She felt closer to the bat than she did to Tanthal. The two dark elves had seen the Uskirian army looming ahead and diverted east, out of range of any catapults, cannons, or ballistae.

  “Don’t be absurd,” said Tanthal. “Of course we’re not friends.” His lip curled in derision. “Now focus, Desstra. We have work to do.”

  She wanted to say that she was well aware of their work. She wanted to remind him that approaching the city by sea had been her idea. But Desstra said nothing. She checked that all her gear was firmly secured and watertight. Then she rose up in the saddle.

  “Now,” Tanthal commanded. In unison, the two dark elves leapt from their bats. Their movements were perfectly synchronized as they dove through the air and splashed into the cold waters of the Sparkle Sea. Then Desstra and Tanthal were swimming hard to reach the rocky shoreline.

  Ten minutes later, panting with the exertion, they climbed out onto the thin strip of rocks at the base of the city walls. A large pipe, protected with an iron grate, spilled rushing water out into the ocean. It was the egress for the River Lux, which ran through two-thirds of the city before disappearing underground.

  “Anytime now,” said Tanthal impatiently.

  “I’m on it,” snapped Desstra, reaching in her satchel and bringing out a small vial of a very strong acid. She applied it to two of the bars of the grate, then stood back as they sputtered and hissed.

  “Oh, cheer up, stupid girl,” Tanthal says. “You don’t really want friends.”

  “I don’t?” she asked.

  “No, you don’t.” Once the bubbling acid subsided, Tanthal grasped the iron and pried it apart. “You think that the world is divided into friends and enemies? Well, you are wrong. It’s divided into winners and losers. And there’s always more of the second category than the first. ‘Friends’ is just what the losers call each other to take the sting out of defeat. I’m better than a friend to you. I’m a winner! And following me is the only way you’ll be a winner, too. You want to graduate? Don’t worry about being my friend. Worry about finding the Horn of Osius and carrying out my orders.”

  Tanthal ripped the bars from the grate. He pushed into the tunnel, struggling against the force of the
water.

  “Stupid of the Gordashans to leave this way unguarded,” he mocked.

  “Give them a break,” said Desstra as she crawled in after him. “There’s no reason for them to expect an invader to carry the sort of gear we have.”

  She passed him one of two nets of finely woven silk. It was the web of a large species of diving bell spider that lived in the caves of their home.

  “You’re right about that,” Tanthal said, pulling the material over his head so it would trap oxygen and allow them to breathe in the waters of the subterranean river. “No one else in the world is the equal of the Underhand. Now, let’s go prove it.”

  Karn and Thianna were disarmed and tied to a tall, wooden tent pole in the center of a room.

  “I apologize for the necessity of this,” Dargan Urgul said. “I almost wish I could free you both and travel with you to your rustic land.”

  “Rustic!” Thianna objected, but Karn cut her off.

  “Why don’t you?” he said.

  “Because I remember what happened to Shambok’s last Speaker to Barbarians when he displeased our ruler.”

  “What was that?” asked Thianna.

  “He invited him to dance,” the Uskirian answered.

  “That doesn’t sound so bad,” she said.

  “On hot coals.”

  “Oh.”

  “Exactly. Now I will bid you goodbye and take my leave of you.”

  Dargan bowed, very formally, and left the room.

  Karn and Thianna were alone.

  “Well,” said Karn. “Here we are, tied up again.”

  “So what do we do now?” she asked. “If we were chained, I could try a freezing cantrip, but this rope fiber won’t get brittle like metal would.”

  “Leave this one to me,” said Karn. “Whitestorm,” he whispered. “Whitestorm,” he said again, louder. Then he yelled as quietly as possible. “Whitestorm!”

  The sword came flying into the room, flipping end over end to land in his hand. It was an awkward grip, given that his arms were tied at his side by ropes wound around a pole.

  “Watch the point of that thing,” said Thianna.

  “Sorry,” he said. “It’s a little hard to maneuver.”

  It took some effort, but with Thianna’s help, they were able to eventually clasp the blade between them and slowly saw its edge against the ropes. At last, the ropes slipped to the ground and they stood free.

  “Now where?” Karn asked. “We’re still in the middle of an army camp.”

  “I got this one,” said Thianna. “Up.”

  Thianna grabbed the tent pole and, wrapping limbs around it, shimmied to the ceiling. Once there, she tore at the canvas at its top.

  “I wish I had a blade,” she muttered.

  “You do tend to go through swords rather fast, I’ve noticed,” said Karn.

  “Yeah, well, mine don’t come when I call.”

  “Mine didn’t used to. You kind of have to stick it in a dragon’s mouth for that.”

  “Sticking my head in once was enough,” said Thianna. “Would you get up here?”

  Karn wasn’t as skilled a climber as a girl raised in the Ymirian Mountains, but he managed to join her with a little effort. Night had fallen while they were being treated to Uskirian hospitality, the darkness providing cover. The surface of the pavilion sank under their feet and offered very little in the way of handholds, but they eventually made it to where a section of the tent abutted the ancient stone of the aqueduct.

  “You want to climb that now?” Karn asked.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Thianna said cryptically.

  Compared with climbing the tent, scaling the weathered stone blocks was relatively easy for the northerners. Soon they stood on the top of the aqueduct. It had a flat surface like a long, narrow bridge.

  “You going to call the wyvern now?” asked Karn.

  “No,” said Thianna. “Being shot out of the sky once is enough. I’ve got another plan.”

  “What’s that?”

  Thianna knelt and pried at a stone slab. After a few moments of grunting and heaving, she levered the stone up. Inside, the moonslight shown on rushing water coursing through a large, brick-lined tunnel.

  “Okay,” said Karn, “but unless you have a way to turn that off, I don’t see what good it does. Not that we both couldn’t use a bath.”

  “Speak for yourself, Norrønboy,” she said. “I always smell wonderful.” She raised an arm and took an exaggerated sniff of her armpit. Then she knelt and placed a hand just above the rushing water. “Skapa kaldr skapa kaldr skapa kaldr,” she chanted. Thianna stood back so that Karn could survey her handiwork. She’d frozen the water upstream so that the tunnel leading to the city was rapidly emptying out.

  She leapt down the now vacant hole.

  “That’s not going to hold for long, I imagine,” Karn said.

  “Doesn’t have to,” Thianna answered. She placed her hands against the frozen block she’d made and muttered some incantations. As Karn watched, Thianna fashioned a rough chair of ice that grew from the front of the block.

  “One ride coming up,” she said.

  “You have got to be kidding,” said Karn.

  “Hey, you wanted to get to Gordasha ahead of the dark elves. I’d like to see them try this.”

  “I’d like to see anybody try this,” said Karn. “Anybody but us.”

  “Come on, Short Stuff. It’ll be fun.” There was an ominous creaking from the frozen water. “But, um, you better hurry and make up your mind. This is about to blow.”

  “Can’t believe I’m doing this,” said Karn, jumping down to join her.

  They sat on the seat, pulling their hands and feet in from the sides of the tunnel.

  The creaking intensified. Karn could feel the tremendous force building up behind them. He had a tense moment during which he hardly dared breathe. Then the ice broke loose, and his head snapped back as they shot through the tunnel faster than an arrow fired from a bow.

  “Sweet Ymir’s feet!” hollered Thianna. “This is incredible!”

  —

  Karn and Thianna zoomed through the tunnel. They had never traveled so fast in their life, even by wyvern. The roar of the waters behind echoed through the tunnel, and it sounded as if they were riding the advance of a thundercloud. Karn remembered being caught in an avalanche last winter, being carried along by an enormous force. This was similar, only this time he’d chosen the wild ride.

  By the dim light of the phosphorescent stone, they began to see small side tunnels leading off to the right and left.

  “We’re inside the city now,” Karn said, yelling above the sound of the water. “How do we stop?”

  “Good question,” Thianna replied. She held her hands palm outward to either side and began to chant.

  “Uh-oh,” she said.

  “Uh-oh?” asked Karn. “What do you mean, ‘uh-oh’? ‘Uh-oh’ is not encouraging.”

  “I mean, ‘Uh-oh, we’re not slowing down.’ Too much friction.”

  “What do we do?” Karn asked.

  “You could try screaming and see if that helps.”

  They whizzed along in the darkness. Thianna chanted her incantation. If their ice chair slowed at all, they couldn’t tell.

  “We must be halfway through the city by now,” said Karn, though he had no real way to judge their speed.

  “I think I see a light up ahead,” she said.

  “Where?”

  Before Thianna could answer, they soared into the open air, landing with a splash in a large body of hot, steamy water.

  They were in a man-made pool, surrounded by bathers in various stages of undress lounging in the warm water. The walls of the room were tiled in elaborate mosaics. A waterfall behind them issued from the large mouth of a statue of a strange animal that had the front quarters of a rooster but the hindquarters of a reptile.

  “So much for a low-key entrance,” he said.

  “You—you came out of the f
ountain!” exclaimed an elderly woman.

  “What?” said Karn, still catching his breath.

  “The waters shut off a few moments ago,” a man said. “We just complained to the proprietors when you came flying out of it.”

  “We’re with the public works department,” said Thianna, climbing from the pool and helping herself to a towel that belonged to a man too shocked to object. “All fixed now.”

  “Um—thanks,” said the stunned woman, her gaze looking uncertainly at the ring of muddy water surrounding Karn where he stood in the pool.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said as he took Thianna’s hand and she hoisted him up. “Just, um, doing our job, is all.”

  Karn and Thianna left the room quickly. They passed smaller rooms with other pools.

  “This is some sort of wealthy bathing house,” Karn explained.

  “Bathing house?” Thianna repeated. “If you’re into bathing, what’s wrong with just jumping in a river?”

  “It’s a Gordashan thing.”

  They were beginning to draw looks as they walked through the corridors, still dripping wet.

  “You’ve bathed in your clothes?” a young man asked incredulously.

  “Saves on time doing laundry,” Karn replied.

  Thianna spied a locker room and led Karn inside.

  “We’re trying to save the world, right?” she asked.

  “That’s the idea.”

  “Then I guess that’s a good-enough excuse.” She quickly helped herself to several sets of clothing, riffling through the cubbies in search of something large enough to fit her. Capes were clearly in fashion. As were long tunics. She found one that suited, though it didn’t come much past her waist.

  Karn hated to steal. The Norrønir had a dim view of theft. But he admitted the need was great. He took a strange, conical cap that draped forward in the front. Silly, but clearly a standard Gordashan accessory. He handed one to Thianna.

  “This looks ridiculous,” she said.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “Put it on. It’s obviously all the rage in these parts. And you stand out enough as it is.”

  Thianna grumbled but donned the cap.

  “Perfect,” said Karn, although secretly he thought she looked absurd. “We’re just two fellow Gordashans returning from a bath. Nothing suspicious about us,” he said, laughing at the way the Gordashan cap on Thianna’s head kept scraping the ceiling. “Now, let’s go save the world.”