“A world of abundance drifts in the Kuurku like a grain of sand lost in the wind. Humans dwell on this world.”
“The Land of Erte,” Uriel said.
“Yes,” Caleb said, “Terra, Gaia, Haaretz. Earth, with its blue oceans, its thriving cities, its fruitful fields and dense forests. Brothers, we need you to take us there.”
Otto laughed. “We do not even ferry strangers to distant cities, and you would have us take you to this world among the stars?”
“Actually,” Uriel said, “The Land of Erte lies far beyond the stars. It floats even beyond our universe.”
“Your Bedu priests,” Caleb said, “are powerful magicians. You can send us there.”
“Why?” said Elizel.
“To stop the Legion from killing the Pillars. To prevent the Kuurku from collapsing. Dear brothers, to save you and your people and all the people on Gehinnom from a horrid death.”
Otto crossed his arms and gave Caleb a hard, skeptical look. Uriel said, “Even if we believe your intentions are genuine, why do you think we can ferry you to the Land of Erte? We are powerful, but not omnipotent.”
“Marul Menacha, the woman who has supped in your tents with your fathers, knows a spell to craft a Merkavah, the vessel that can ferry us across the Great Deep. But she needs power. This is why we’ve come to you. Your power is greater than any other on this world.”
Otto tugged at his beard. “Lord Elizel, this man spins lies like the stars of the Jeen. We have fifty fothers of barley and two hundred jars of oil to haul to Blömsnu before the quarter moon. With the attacks, the cities will need the Bedu more than ever! We have no time for one man’s delusions—”
Elizel raised his hand to silence Otto. “You are three,” Elizel said, sweeping his hand before them. “How do three humans stop a demon army?”
“With speed and forethought,” Caleb said. “We will seek out the remaining Pillars and hide them before they can be killed. And to give us even more time I will restore a Pillar who has fallen from the Kuurku to Gehinnom.”
“And who might that be?” Uriel said.
“This man here,” Caleb said, pointing to Daniel. “Daniel Fisher, Lamed Vavnik.”
Daniel sat back, breathed in deep as the men took this in.
“Him?” Otto said. “A Pillar? He was wearing a cloak of the maneaters just an hour ago. Lord Elizel, this defiles our tent.”
“Elizel,” Marul said. “Lord Elizel. On the blood of my fathers, by the Great Goddess Mollai, I swear, Daniel Fisher is a Pillar. He needs to get back to Earth.”
Uriel inspected Daniel, as if he were a beast for sale. “Daniel may be a Pillar, or he may be an imposter. How can we know what you say is true?”
“The demon army that attacks this world,” Caleb said, “is looking for him.”
“Which means they’re now looking for us!” Otto shouted.
Elizel stiffened his jaw. “If this is true, then you bring great danger to the Bedu. And for this you want our help?”
“Lord Elizel,” Caleb said, “the danger is already upon us. Your people are the last hope of Gehinnom. And you very well may be the last hope of the Cosmos. I know we’re asking you to take a leap of faith. But if we do nothing, then we might as well throw ourselves on our swords now. The demons will have already won.”
A ram’s horn blew three bracing notes, and Elizel and his men exchanged glances.
“The shift comes,” Elizel said as he climbed to his feet. “Prepare yourselves for travel.” He took a deep breath and said, “Before I decide what to do, I’ll convey your story to the Synedrium, so the houses can speak their views. This is too great a decision for one man.”
“Lord Elizel,” Caleb said, “the Legion won’t wait for your politics.”
“I agree,” Otto said. “Hence why I vote we cast these foreigners into the desert before they bring hell to us.”
“That would be a grave mistake,” Caleb said, “for all.”
Elizel paused at the tent opening. “The burden of leadership is weightier than lead. I wish it on no one. The Synedrium will meet as soon as we reach the next sandlull. Until I hear from the houses, I will make no decisions.”
Elizel swept out of the tent, and Otto muttered, “Coward.” Otto glowered at Caleb as he and Uriel left.
The servants ran into the tent and snuffed the censer, stowed the cups, and rolled up the rug. As they collapsed the tent, the yellow sun beat down upon them again. The dunes had fled since they’d entered the shade. The flat sands gave no hint that they would soon fling them across the desert faster than a jet.
The six thousand Bedu packed the camp—a small city—with uncanny speed. In minutes it was as if the camp had never been. A group of soldiers remained close, keeping their wary eyes on Caleb and the others. Their shackles, he saw, were subtle.
Daniel shivered in the sun. “I—I need protection. Where is the cloak?”
“They burned it,” Marul said. “Let me go see what I can do.”
In a few minutes one of the servant girls returned with a hooded gray cloak. It was ragged and soiled, but it was enough to cover most of his exposed skin. Daniel donned it eagerly. To Caleb’s surprise, he watched Daniel shove his purple wedding flower into his pocket.
Had Daniel held it in his fist this whole time? That meant that even in the midst of the battle he had thought to save it.
Daniel, Caleb thought, do you still cling to your fantasy that Rebekah was real, that all of this is a bad dream? You are in for a great shock.
Daniel threw his hood over his face and said, “How am I supposed to hold up a world, when I can’t even hold myself up?”
Marul helped him cover his skin. “Stop with your self-pity,” she said. “It’s very unflattering. Just think, by tomorrow, you’ll be home, and all this will be forgotten.”
“I’ll never forget this,” Daniel said.
The Bedu arranged themselves in serried ranks, and even the animals fell into line. A sparrow darted across the sky, chirping a song in a high key. Caleb could hear the bird, but none other seemed to notice. He listened as the sparrow sung a message from Havig.
Grug is dead, the sparrow sang, sweetly and quickly. Rana’s parents dead too. Rana is missing, location unknown. The Mikulalim scour Gehinnom, looking for her, my lord.
Caleb shuddered as the sparrow flew away. Was Rana dead? What a dreadful, dreadful waste. A knot tightened in his chest. He needed Rana for his plan, but this emotion was something else, something unexpected. By Abbadon, he missed her.
A ram’s horn blew, and the six thousand men, women, and children began their slow march across the sands. Toward salvation or death, they marched on.
——
A dune two hundred feet tall pursued them as they walked, and Daniel felt that at any moment it would crash upon them. The Bedu walked in separate houses, each several hundred people in number. Like soldiers in an expert march, they maintained formation even as the hills and valleys rolled steeply beneath them. Within each house marched standard-bearers, strong boys with biceps of stone. They hoisted banners of azure, crimson, and gold, and the name of each house was written in a flourishing script. Each house had a distinct symbol. Kissing hawks, cups of wine, a tent, entangled snakes, crossed swords. There were at least forty flags, but the moving sands made an exact count impossible.
One house drove a herd of camels, another drove goats. One house seemed to consist only of men. Daniel and the others walked with House Ravid, priests and soldiers and their families. Fifty paces ahead, Elizel, Otto, and Uriel were in a heated discussion. Otto cursed and shouted, but Elizel never reacted to his outbursts, and instead stared ahead at the horizon. Uriel shook his head, as if disappointed with them both.
The Bedu, Daniel saw, were a wealthy people. The hilts of their swords glittered with jewels. Golden belts and bracelets flashed from their women. Their gossamer clothing was finely sewn, and intricate threads of blue, yellow, and crimson weaved through elegant seams. Several of
their camels bore cedar palanquins on their backs, knobs and finials carved into roaring lions. Prayers had been delicately inlaid in the wood.
Daniel had never seen these letters before, but he understood the words perfectly. A prayer curved over one nearby palanquin window: May her Great Name be exalted and sanctified in the World which She hath created according to Her Will . . .
The prayer was nearly word for word the same as the Kaddish, the Jewish prayer for the sanctification of God’s name. And he remembered—it seemed ages ago now—that when Rana had conversed with that pipe-smoking salesman in Azru, Daniel had picked up a ring with a Star of David signet.
I’m not the first to come from Earth to this world, he thought. How many had come before him, trading ideas, beliefs, knowledge? And how many from Gehinnom had traveled to Earth, like Marul? Maybe, he thought, the ancient Hebrews got their beliefs from this world and not the other way around. Or maybe it was infinitely more complicated.
The titanic dune chasing them groaned and hissed like a creeping monster. For the past hour, many odd creatures had visited the wave. Mirrored worms, furry green caterpillars, skeletons as big as dinosaurs. They vanished soon after they appeared, returning to the sandy depths from which they had been churned.
Marul put her small hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she said. “The dune won’t break. Not this far into the Tattered Sea. We’re riding the wave,” she said. “Every minute takes us parasot across the desert.”
She looked back toward Caleb. The demon had ingratiated himself with a group of leather-clad soldiers, who chortled and belly laughed at Caleb’s crude and bawdy jokes.
Marul turned back to Daniel and said something else. Can you hear my thoughts? Nod your head if you understand. Her words, just as with Junal, were thrust into his mind.
Surprised, he nodded. You speak the Mikulalim language?
Grug taught me the silent tongue, she thought. But I can converse only when in physical contact. Answer me aloud before Caleb suspects something.
“Where are we headed?” he said.
She glanced over her shoulder at Caleb, before think-speaking. You were right, Daniel, back in the tent. There is another path. Without Caleb. Aloud she said, “We are headed to Blömsnu, I think, to deliver grain and oil.”
And what is this other path?
We will pretend we were ignorant of Caleb’s demon nature until now. That he deceived us into helping him. He is weak, vulnerable, in human form. I don’t think I’m strong enough to kill him, but the Bedu might be. “The sun feels good on my skin,” she said. “It’s been so long.”
“Perhaps you’ve had too much,” he said. I thought you said they’ll kill us if they discover he’s a demon?
“I have only just returned to the light,” she said. If we knew he was a demon, and still befriended him, then yes, we would likely be killed. But if we play the unwitting victim, the Bedu might have mercy on us. If you stay close, I will do my best protect you when the time comes. “Why would I shy away from the light so quickly?”
“Because excess of anything is never good.” We need Caleb, Marul! He knows who the Lamed Vav are. Without him, we can’t protect them when we get back to Earth!
Caleb is not the only one who knows, she thought. “‘The road to excess leads to the palace of wisdom.’”
Who else knows then? he thought. “Or ruin.”
She stared at him. I know.
He was confused. How could Marul, the witch who’d been trapped in a cave for five years, know where to find the other Lamed Vav? Had Caleb told her?
Does it matter how I know? she thought. It only matters that I do. We don’t need him.
Daniel realized he had to be more careful of his stray thoughts. I’ve never killed anyone before. I don’t know if I can start now.
You won’t have to lift a sword. “Ruin?” she said. “How can I fall any lower than I’ve already been?”
He stared at her. “You could die.” Even if I don’t strike the killing blow against him, it would be murder. The same as Caleb ordering the Mikulalim to drop their swords.
Her face grew red. “For some, death is freedom.” Do you know how many millions Caleb has killed? How many suffered because of him? This is our chance to rid the Cosmos of him forever! Daniel, don’t deny me my revenge!
Daniel caught a stray thought from Marul, an image of her crushing Caleb’s skull with a stone, his blood pouring over the stone floor of her prison. It was so vivid he knew she had imagined this a thousand times over the years.
Gram used to say, “If I could go back in time to strangle Hitler in the cradle—emoch shmo!—I would have! I would have killed that baby if I knew it would save millions.” Behind them, Caleb still joked with the soldiers. Would his death be just?
Wait for my sign, Marul thought. Staring into his eyes, she lifted her hand from his shoulder. “It is a good day to think on things,” she said.
He heard laughter behind him. Five children had been following him. They were pointing and whispering. Pushed by his peers, a dark-faced boy approached Daniel. His eyes were enormous blue orbs. He lifted a small knife and said in Bedu-Besk, “Hark, stranger! I’m a Shield of the Tribe. You break the twenty-fifth law. ‘Thou shalt not defile your tents with the unclean.’”
Daniel put his hands up in mock surrender. “Apologies, little shield. It’s been days since I bathed. I’m as unclean as they come.” He smiled.
The boy glanced back at his peers and they urged him on. “The punishment for defilement is death,” the boy said, nervously.
“In that case, lead me to your baths.”
“Maneaters need to be destroyed.”
Daniel frowned, remembering the Mikulalim screams, when something hard slammed into his head. His skull rang with pain, and it was followed by a severe wave of nausea.
“Maneater!” a girl shouted.
Daniel fell to his knees, holding his ringing head, when something hot and sharp pierced his side. Daniel gasped as the boy ran away, his knife flashing in the sun. He saw his blood pouring onto the sand, and only then did he feel the pain.
“No!” Caleb shouted. “What did that little bastard do?”
Daniel rolled onto his side, clutching the wound. Hot, wet liquid poured over his hand. Was this happening? Marul hovered above him, speaking, but he heard only the droning of bees. The dune rose behind them, an enormous wall made of blood. The skeleton of some long-dead beast floated up from the depths, split into pieces, and sank again, consumed in red.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
She rode on the back of a camel, toward Azru, toward home, and Emod rode beside her. Emod had said little since they left camp, preferring the stillness of a tobacco pipe taken from one of the dead men. With a short tether, they each pulled a second camel, and all of them were laden with the bandits’ loot. Most of the items appeared to be from Rana’s studio. The copper bust of Mollai she had made for Mama poked out from a bag at her heel, flashing in the sun.
“Azru’s gone, Rana,” Emod said to the sere plain, breaking hours of silence. Mournful dunes crept across the sands of the Tattered Sea like hungry ghosts. “There’s nothing in Azru for us now.”
“There’s Liu,” she said. “And my parents. I have to burn their bodies.”
Emod sighed. “The king’s armies have been defeated. No one guards the streets. Those bastards—” he swallowed “—won’t be the only pillagers.”
“You said you saw my sister alive, rescued by a woman.”
“I’m not sure what I saw. Rana, we have jewels worth a small city. Let’s go to Ektu El and build a new life. You can craft your art, and I can sell it again.”
She gritted her teeth. “That would be death.” She had to believe Liu was alive. What else was left? “I have to go back for my sister.”
“You told me all about Liu,” he said, his voice as shaken as the horizon. “But I never saw her myself. Maybe it was another child I saw.”
“If you want to leave, Em
od, then go. Ektu El is nine days north.”
He dragged a hand through his dark, greasy hair. “I’ve crossed the desert many times, but always with a guide. I’ve no idea which way to go.”
She pointed with her chin. “Forward is south. Backward is north.”
“Are you sure? We’ve been walking south for hours. We should have seen the Araatz by now, the DanBaer.” The bruises of his face had begun to fester and had turned as orange as the sands. “I see nothing but more desert.”
“I know the sun,” she said.
“So do I. I lived my days under it. But do you know the tides?” A small dune rolled beneath them, whistling a somber note as it passed.
“No,” she said. “Do you?”
He shook his head.
“Then we head south until we reach Azru, or we die. I don’t see any other way.”
He mumbled, “There are always other ways.” But he remained beside her.
Their camels slowed as the dunes grew steadily larger, when, like frightened rams, the dunes skipped away and the desert became as still and flat as water in a bucket.
“I don’t like this,” she said.
“We must be in a sandlull,” Emod said. “Where the tides cancel.” And he added, with despair, “There are none near Azru that I know of.”
In the haze on the southern horizon a rectangular object wavered in the heat. Dark as an olive but flecked with brilliance, it leaned off-kilter like a brick set poorly.
“Do you see that?” Emod said. “Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe we are approaching Azru!”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Maybe it’s a piece of a tower that has fallen? Blessed Mollai, I hope it’s so.”
“I know every brick in Azru. That’s something else.”
The object grew as they approached, revealing its great size. It was three stories high and two hundred paces on its longest side. Its surface was dark but reflective hematite, though it had been severely sandworn and rusted. Carved in relief on its surface in many rows, demons and humans waged a brutal history along its sides. A tall name curved like a bow over the histories in an ornate Ytrain script.
King of Shards Page 23
