by Davis Ashura
Li-Boil, his second in command — his VorsanKi — edged up to Choke’s side. The western Bael was the elder by several seasons, but right now, he seemed the younger. He looked to Choke for guidance. “What evil has She done,” he asked in a fearful whisper.
“A terrible crime. Many of our brothers and sisters died today,” Choke answered.
“Humans?”
“Who else?”
“And what of us? Are we to go north and carry out Mother’s will? Destroy the survivors?”
Choke turned to him in surprise. “You were present when the SarpanKum and the senior staff decided on how best to deal with this situation,” he said. “We’ll do our best to not engage with any survivors.”
“But what of the other Fractures? You’ve split our forces. What if the Humans survive Mother’s wrath in greater numbers than we expect? If even several thousand of them come upon us, we’ll be slaughtered like Pheds.”
“If several thousand of them were to survive, it would be a wondrous miracle” Choke replied. “I fear it will be far fewer.”
“Perhaps. But they would seek our death. And I must know why these strangers are more important than our own brethren?”
Choke was no longer surprised by Boil’s lack of commitment to the ideals of fraternity. It was an unexpected failing in far too many of the western Baels. How could so many of his western brothers, the ones Hume had first instructed in the tenets and ideals of fraternity, have lost their way? It was sad to see. Thankfully, the current SarpanKum, Li-Shard, was an exception, and hopefully, he would be able to lead the western Baels back to the righteous path of their ancestors.
“There are times when we must willingly give all we have, even for a stranger,” Choke answered. “Death is fearful, but living with the sin of murder is far worse.”
“We aren’t the ones who killed them,” Boil protested.
“Aren’t we?” Choke asked. “Simply standing aside when we could have helped those facing Mother’s fury does not absolve us, nor can we claim to honor Hume’s teachings if we were to act in such a way.”
“Then what would you have us do?” Boil asked, settling down into a posture of attentiveness.
“The other Fractures are ranged all along the Privation Mountains. They are miles distant from us and ill-positioned to co-ordinate either with us or with each other.”
“We’re positioned in such a way that we won’t be able to trap any who flee. Is that why you’ve called a halt to our march?”
“Yes,” Choke said. “It is only the first step in our ultimate aim.”
“Which is?”
Choke smiled. “As it has been since Hammer’s demise: thwart Mother’s will.”
Boil nodded. “A good plan,” he said, not sounding particularly convinced. A moment later, he was called away to settle a problem.
Choke watched his VorsanKi depart, wondering anew how the western Baels had forgotten so much of Hume’s teachings.
But it was a question for another time.
Other issues occupied his thoughts. He wished he had a way to know how Chak-Soon was doing. He had tasked the young Tigon and his special claw with a special mission, one only he and the SarpanKum knew about. Chak-Soon had been sent to the Soulless River, separate from the rest of the Fan Lor Kum. He was to prepare for what Choke had hoped wouldn’t be needed. But with today’s events, it seemed it would be.
Much rested on whether Chak-Soon had completed his mission. If he had, then some small portion of this calamity might still be put to right. Choke hoped so. Thus far, so much had simply gone wrong. For instance, Choke had planned on alerting the warriors and scouts of this hidden mountain city that enemies approached. He had wanted to give as many of them as possible a chance to escape the coming destruction, but Mother had made sure no such warning could be carried. For the past few days, the Fan Lor Kum had come across a number of small caves and well-hidden cabins. They were outposts of the mountain city, and all of them had been obliterated. None of the scouts within had managed to escape, and reports indicated other such redoubts in every other direction had been similarly destroyed.
The city Mother was exterminating had been caught sleeping with no awareness of the death coming their way. The terrible irony of it all was that if not for Li-Dirge’s bilgewater story about a city hidden in the mountains — a story meant to save Ashoka — none of this would have come to pass. The Queen would have never discovered this place.
Li-Boil returned. “A nest reports a body of Human warriors — perhaps as many as fifty — traversing the valley just on the other side of the eastern ridge. Blended and with hardly any signs of their passage. The Ur-Fels say they found evidence of their existence purely by accident: a dropped leather glove.”
“How far ahead are they?”
“A few hours.”
Choke grunted. “If we’re lucky, they’re warriors Mother missed on Her way here.” He considered what to do about the situation. Fifty warriors couldn’t do much against the Shatter sent north, but they might be the difference between life and death for a number of their fellow Humans. “Have the Ur-Fels and Braids leave them be? We will deal with them.”
“We?”
“You and I and eight Baels of my choosing,” Choke said. “Command of the Fracture in our absence will be given over to Li-Silt.” Choke trusted Silt. The old Bael was someone who was devout in his beliefs regarding Hume’s teachings.
“If we aren’t careful, Mother will do to all of us as She did to Li-Dirge,” Boil warned.
There it was. The older Bael’s words only confirmed what Choke had long since suspected. The western brothers were terrified of extinction, and after last summer’s events on the Hunters Flats, it was a rational fear. For three hundred years, the Baels had worked to disrupt Mother’s plans, but just as diligently, they had hidden their deception. They knew the penalty for betrayal, an instruction vividly explained by the execution of the eastern Baels. And yet, Choke didn’t believe Dirge’s death and the extermination of his eastern brothers was a reason to abandon the unity of brotherhood. There had to be more to life than simply existing. A being had to have a purpose.
“We will be careful,” Choke said. “But we also cannot step aside and say this isn’t our fight. We will do all we can without risking Mother seeing our deceit.”
Boil didn’t appear convinced. “Did Dirge believe as you?” he challenged.
Choke frowned at the not-so-subtle insult. “Dirge lived to see the fulfillment of our deepest dreams: brotherhood with a Human. It was worth his life. And ours. Our SarpanKum — your SarpanKum — affirmed that. You would be wise to heed him.”
Boil bowed his head. “As always, I heed those with greater wisdom. I just hope that by doing so, I don’t live to see our kind destroyed and our lives stolen from us.”
“Our lives belong to Devesh; we simply borrow them. And He will reclaim what is His when the time is right.”
*****
The terrain had grown familiar as Farn Arnicep led the Ashokans toward Stronghold. He recognized this long valley, the shallow stream flowing from here to the Croft, where it merged with the River Fled. He even remembered some of the stone outcroppings jutting out from the high granite cliffs and mesas forming the valley’s northern and southern border. They were but hours from the Croft.
Of course, the last time he had been through here, the stream had been iced over and the stony ground covered with a fresh layer of snow. Now, patches of tall, soft grass and fields of wildflowers in bloom softened the rocky terrain. Mountain bluebirds and robins trilled their delight in the early morning sunlight and fat bumblebees flitted about, lost in orgiastic delight as they fed on nectar and pollen. The clean scent of pine drifted on the soft breeze as stands of cottonwoods and aspen shaded the Ashokans riding quietly. It was a lovely spring morning.
Farn chewed his lip in worry.
Last time he’d been through here, there had been small outposts set up to monitor every approach to the ci
ty. Of course, in the winter, the Home Army of Stronghold didn’t man the outposts. Given that Suwraith’s creatures always waged war in warmer weather, the chance of an attack in heavy snow and cold was exceedingly small.
But it was spring now, and warm.
So where were the warriors? They should have confronted the Ashokans by now. But there was nothing, only a world strangely silent. Worst of all, every one of the outposts the Ashokans had come across had been destroyed by cave-ins.
It stretched credibility. One or even two, Farn could have accepted since earthquakes might be frequent in the mountains. But all of them? It defied logic and chance. Something else had happened. Something bad.
The answer to his unsettling question came a moment later in the form of a titanic cloud exploding skyward from the west. It rose higher and higher. A mile or more it soared. Seconds later, a thunderous boom washed over the Ashokans, the shock wave bending trees, grass, and men alike.
“Holy Devesh,” Jaresh said, picking himself off the ground. “What in the unholy hells was that?” Jaresh was a good man. A fine warrior, tough and efficient. He was certainly as skilled as any Muran and Rahail. And he was scared, as well he should be.
Farn certainly was.
He now understood what he and the rest of the Ashokans face. The strange silence, the absent scouts … all of it made sense now. The grim cloud to the west was in the general direction of the Croft. Something terrible had happened, and something worse was about to happen to Stronghold. Suwraith must have discovered Stronghold.
Farn feared for what was coming next. While he hadn’t always been happy during his time amongst the OutCastes, time and distance had given him a new perspective. Fifty-five Humans had hewn a city from the stone heart of a mountain and grown to a multitude. It was the stuff of legends. It was inspirational, and it should be applauded, but Farn understood what that terrible black cloud presaged. Stronghold’s existence might end today.
And Rukh might be there. Farn swallowed down his fear. They had to find out what had happened, and save anyone they could.
“Everyone tighten your Blend! Make them as hard as you can!” Farn shouted before turning to Jaresh. “Suwraith. I think the cloud is from Suwraith. She means to destroy Stronghold.”
The blood drained from Jaresh’s face. “Rukh.”
“We have to hurry if we want to do any good here. Stronghold doesn’t have an Oasis, and without one, the city stands naked before the Queen. We have to save as many as we can.”
With a heavy exhalation, Jaresh seemed to take a hold of his terror. When he next met Farn’s gaze, the fear was gone — or at least suppressed — from his eyes. Jaresh nodded. “There’s likely to be Chimeras in the hills,” he said. “We’ll have to be doubly careful.”
Farn grunted even as he silently admired Jaresh’s courage. He loved his cousin like a brother, but this journey had taught him to respect him as a man. Jaresh would have made a fine Kumma. “Keep your eyes and ears sharp. And no wandering off,” he said to the fifty-two warriors under his command. “We need our Blends tight and over-lapping.”
If anything, the warriors grew more grim and determined. They loosened scabbarded swords and strung bows, readying for the battle all of them knew was coming. Farn wouldn’t have expected anything less. They were Ashokans. They knew their duty.
“Devesh see us through,” Jaresh said.
“Right now, no one else can,” Farn said.
“What are your orders?” Lieutenant Danslo asked, his face properly stoic.
“We go and learn what’s happened to Rukh. And Stronghold. And put the purifying fire to any who need it,” Farn answered.
*****
Lienna exulted. The city was broken. Its people were dead and dying. Her work here was all but complete. There were a few Humans left, huddled and terrified in narrow tunnels deep within the heart of the mountain. They would likely die of dehydration, but Lienna saw no need to take any chances. The Human infestation needed uprooting, with no chance for the vermin to re-establish their hold here. Lienna sent out tendrils of Her sandstorm and killed those few people who must have believed themselves safe from Her wrath.
It was done, and She blasted an exit through the side of the mountain. She rained an avalanche of rocks and boulders down below, but She didn’t notice. Outside, some of the pests had emerged like locusts, fleeing the destruction of their city. The vermin ranged all over the slopes of the surrounding hills and valleys, but soon, they too would be dead. Her Chims would see to it. They would find and kill the Humans wherever they sought to hide.
“Weakling,” a sinister voice whispered to Her in a voice like flaying knives. Mistress Arisa.
Lienna shuddered. She did Her best to ignore the voice. It was a phantasm, a relic of a time of madness. Nevertheless, a lingering fear, a stone of doubt accreted within Her mind. Two other times during the attack today, Mother and Father or Arisa, had spoken to Her. Both times, Lienna had been mocked, treated as though She were dung underfoot.
“It is Your truest nature,” the cruel voice whispered. “Dung eater.”
“Can You not hear the cries of the dying? You were once a beloved Healer,” Mother said.
“Your legacy is one of blood, pain, and evil,” Father added.
“SILENCE!” Lienna shouted. The cries of the dying did bother Her, but worse was Mistress Arisa’s derisive laughter, Mother’s repetitive questioning, and Father’s nattering advice. It was exhausting, and Lienna wanted nothing more than to have all the voices gone from Her mind. They weren’t real, and yet here they were, whispering poison into Her mind. This after She had thought She’d found a way to cure Her madness.
“The madness is Your conscience,” Father said.
Lienna cried out, spiraling away from the city She had so recently destroyed. She out-stripped the clouds and the wind, seeking to escape the demons in Her mind, knowing all the while that She couldn’t. She couldn’t even pour more madness into the Fan Lor Kum of Continent Catalyst. If She did, Her children would tear into one another with lethal rage.
No. As She had so many other times, Lienna would have to suffer this pain alone. It was the curse of Her loving spirit.
*****
Chak-Soon growled in annoyance. Fine, powdered soil, like ash, matted his fur and irritated his sensitive nose. His ears lay flat against his head as he tried to keep the dust out. The tremendous cloud of dirt and debris blasted skyward from an hour ago still hung in the air, but it was starting to descend like a hazy brown rain. He couldn’t see very well, smell very well, or hear very well. And he didn’t like it.
He and his claw stood on the summit of a flat-topped hill. His fellow Tigons ranged in size and coloration from an old, lean, cheetah-spotted cat to a younger, thickly muscled, tabby-striped brute, and while Chak-Soon was the ordinate, unlike other claws, he didn’t consider these others his minions. Ad also unlike other claws, Chak-Soon knew he need not fear overthrow by those in his command. The Tigons of this claw considered themselves brothers.
Chak-Soon set aside his wandering thoughts. He and the claw had climbed this hill to gain their bearings.
The River Gaunt was their destination, and this peak — bald except for a sparse crown of skeletal pine trees — offered a view for miles around, including a south-facing scree slope that was angled toward the wide valley and fields Mother had recently smashed. Even now, despite the sound deadening dust, he could hear Her at work. She was deep within the bulk of the nearby mountain, likely slaughtering any She came across. Chak-Soon and his Tigons would have to work quickly if they were to help carry out Li-Choke’s plan and save as many of the Humans as they could. On the side opposite the scree slope, the Bovars and their precious cargo waited at the bottom of the hill, the means by which to carry out Choke’s plan.
“Braids,” the young tabby, Chak-Lind grunted.
“Three traps,” Chak-Rudd, the old cheetah, stated. He gestured to the south.
Chak-Soon looked to where the o
ther Tigons pointed and saw the snake-like Chimeras, fifteen or twenty of them. They were several hundred yards away, slithering along the base of a nearby ridge. They appeared excited, gesturing about with eager energy. Of course, their enthusiasm was to be expected. A battle awaited and with Mother’s presence, victory was all but assured. The Braids, paused every so often, noses to the air and tongues flicking in and out. Chak-Soon wondered how they could taste or smell anything with all the dust billowing about. His brows furrowed, and a moment later, he realized the reason for their excitement: a Human girl flickered into view halfway in between the Braids and the watching Tigons. The child was unskilled. Her Blend was poorly formed even after she re-established it. The Braids would be upon her in minutes.
Chak-Soon sat back on his heels and considered what to do. Thus far his treason had been confined to his thoughts alone. While he could be accused of spreading dissension, such as the knowledge of fraternity, even then he could simply lie; deny any knowledge of it. So long as Chak-Soon’s actions reflected the life he was bred to live, no one need find out what was in his heart. If he saved that girl, though, his future would be set and his past lost. He would be branded a traitor. But only if Mother ever learned of his betrayal.
She wouldn’t.
Chak-Soon searched the nearby valley and surrounding hills. Good. No one else was around. It might work, but only if his Tigons were swift and bold. “We save girl.”
Chak-Kilt, a young, leopard-spotted Tigon growled. “Humans. Why?” he asked, appearing fearful.
“Brothers,” Chak-Rudd answered.
Chak-Dred, a snow leopard, nodded. “It why we here.”
“Not want,” Chak-Kilt said, eyes still filled with fear.
Chak-Soon felt pity for the young Tigon. They all recognized the finality of the step they were about to take. He rested his hand on Chak-Kilt’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We be with you, brother,” he said.
