In the Claws of the Tiger

by James Wyatt

  Over the top of the giant’s fist, Janik saw Sever slash with lightning speed, taking advantage of the creature’s reach to cut its wrist. The adamantine sword bit deep and the behemoth released Janik with a howl of pain, sending him flying through the air. He slammed to the floor just behind Dania, dizzy and gasping for breath.

  He lay helpless, the room spinning around him. Sever had the giant’s attention, his blade whirling, lines of blood trailing every time it connected with the giant’s flesh. Dania forced herself to her feet, and Mathas sent another arc of lightning to engulf the giant. Auftane stood right behind the warforged, touching various parts of Sever’s strange plated body and causing them to glow with a series of spells. His spells had a visible effect—Sever did not weaken or tire, and kept the giant almost entirely on the defensive. It had not managed to retrieve its stone club from the ground, a minor victory in itself.

  Wait, Janik thought. Where’s Krael?

  Even as the thought passed through his mind, a movement on the upper gallery caught his eye. Krael pushed the limp body of one of the zakya archers over the railing, then hopped up to perch on the railing himself. Krael was by no means a small man, and his plate armor dramatically increased his bulk. Janik was impressed by the grace of his movement and the apparent ease with which he balanced on the narrow railing.

  Janik rolled slowly into a crouch, and saw Dania charge up beside Sever, her sword crackling with silver fire. Krael was watching the giant carefully, his huge flail in hand. As Janik stood, Krael jumped, flying through the air and landing on the giant’s hump shoulder. He swung his flail as he leaped, smashing hard into the side of the giant’s head.

  Janik shook his head and quickly regretted it, putting a hand on the wall to steady himself as the room started spinning again. Dania’s sword struck true, erupting in flame, and the giant choked out a final roar as it fell to its knees.

  A month ago, if Janik had tried to imagine fighting alongside Krael and his warforged assassin, he would have thought himself touched by Xoriat’s madness. But here they were, not only fighting a common foe, but working well together.

  Krael balanced on the giant’s grotesque hump. He brought his flail around for another mighty blow that broke the creature’s neck with an audible snap.

  Janik leaned against the wall and let himself sink down to the floor. This day had brought too many surprises already.

  Janik felt much better after Auftane worked his magic with his wands. Or at least his body did—his mind was still reeling at the bizarre company he found himself in, and he sat against the wall as Auftane checked each of the others. With the battle over, Krael and Sever shifted into a more distant attitude, whispering together apart from the others. But Janik couldn’t shake the powerful impression he’d had of the six of them working as a team.

  Dania reverted to her previous search for the mysterious voice. Janik frowned as she cocked her head, looking around at the upper galleries as if trying to find the source of the whispers that only she could hear. She bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet, heedless of the bruises she’d suffered in the fight and eager to chase the mysterious voices. Janik rubbed his forehead, thinking of her words just before they found the giant. Could she really be hearing the voices of Dhavibashta and whatever spirit held the rajah beneath the earth? Could she possibly distinguish one voice from the other?

  And what about Krael? Janik thought he saw that distant look in Krael’s eyes again, though the vampire was clearly trying to hide it more than Dania was. That worried Janik, suggesting that Krael was listening to a voice he didn’t want Janik to know about. But Krael had no reason to collude with the rajah, did he? Not with the grudge he clearly bore against the rajah’s lieutenant, the Fleshrender inhabiting Maija’s body.

  Sea of Fire, he thought. I never know what’s going on.

  Auftane had tended to everyone, using his wands on the living and his own peculiar magic on Sever. Janik got to his feet. Only one other exit remained on this level—a huge door, large enough for the giant to duck through, opposite the enormous door they’d come through. But two smaller doors were visible up in the gallery.

  “Which way?” Janik said.

  “Up,” Dania said, pointing toward the gallery.

  At the same instant, Krael pointed to the large door and said, “Down.”

  Janik gaped at the two of them. Dania’s eyes were wide, while Krael wore his insipid grin again. This was exactly what he had feared.

  “What’s going on?” he said.

  Krael shrugged. “We’ll find Maija in the heart of the temple,” he said. He pointed to the great door again. “That door will take us there.”

  “Dania?” Janik said. “Did you have some other destination in mind?” Damn, he thought, did I just side with Krael against Dania? Could things turn any more upside down?

  “The pinnacle,” Dania said vaguely, her eyes still on the gallery.

  Janik sighed. Dania wasn’t making it easy for him to take her seriously. Krael seemed perfectly reasonable, squarely meeting Janik’s gaze and pointing the group toward the destination they had agreed on. By contrast, Dania was completely distracted and hesitant to offer any explanation. He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to capture her eyes.

  “Dania,” he said quietly. “Talk to me. What’s at the pinnacle? Why do you want to go there?”

  Her eyes finally met his, but she seemed to be speaking out of a dream. “It’s so beautiful, Janik,” she said. “Like the couatl we saw in the air, and so kind and wise. It wants to help us defeat the Fleshrender. It can help us, Janik, if we go to the pinnacle of the temple.”

  “Janik,” Krael whispered, as if Dania wouldn’t hear, “I’m not sure Dania is entirely in command of her faculties.”

  “Shut up, Krael,” Janik spat, but he wasn’t nearly as sure as he sounded.

  “Perhaps I can help resolve our impasse,” Mathas said.

  “I’m listening,” Janik said. He still held Dania’s shoulders, but she was no longer looking at him. She reminded him of a small child, easily distracted, looking anywhere but at him.

  “I could send my eyes along the route that Dania suggests,” Mathas said, “just as I scouted the ruins yesterday. We could attempt to determine the veracity of her assertions without putting ourselves at significant risk.”

  Janik gave Mathas an approving smile, but he caught Krael’s scowl out of the corner of his eye. Interesting, he thought. That suggests that Krael knows something about what Mathas might see, and doesn’t want him to see it.

  Or else he’s just impatient, Janik thought. Anxious to bring this thing to an end, and put off by Dania’s ridiculous ramblings about the couatl.

  “Perhaps we should declare our partnership concluded,” Krael said. “We have helped each other escape from that little cell, and I have shown you the way to the heart of Maija’s temple. If you’d rather not go that way, it’s your affair. But I know what I came here for—I will have my revenge.”

  “I can’t let you kill Maija, Krael,” Janik said.

  “If you intend to stop me, then you’d better come down with me,” Krael said, his voice low. “And if you think your dreamstruck paladin can do anything to get the Fleshrender out of your dear wife’s body while Maija is still alive, you had better drag her along as well. Frankly, though, I’m losing confidence—and patience.”

  So that’s it, Janik thought. Perhaps I was imagining that look on Krael’s face, or reading too much into it. He’s not hearing the voice of the rajah—he just wants to go and get this over with.

  He turned back to Dania. “Dania, please look at me.” Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling of the chamber now, and she seemed not to hear him at all. Janik took her shoulders again and shook her gently, then a little harder. “Dania!”

  Her eyes did not move, and she spoke so quietly he could barely hear. “The pinnacle first,” she whispered, “and then the rajah’s prison.”

  “Sea of Fire!” Janik shouted,
pushing Dania roughly away from him. She stumbled, but Mathas caught her, shooting Janik a reproachful glare. For a moment, Janik considered suggesting that Dania lead Mathas and Auftane to the pinnacle while he went down with Sever and Krael. But it would be too dangerous, he thought. He was confident that the six of them could handle anything, even Maija, but split into groups, they’d be vulnerable, especially against another giant. Besides, without Dania, what hope did they have of forcing the spirit out of Maija?

  He put his hands to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. All he could see was Maija sneering at him, Maija casting the spell that had knocked him out, Maija stretching her mocking grin into a thin, cruel smile. Her words raked across his heart: “I lied.”

  No, damn it! he thought. That wasn’t Maija, that was the Fleshrender. Maija is still there somewhere—trapped in her body, powerless to stop what the fiend made her do and say. And if Maija is still there, then there’s hope.

  He opened his eyes and looked at Dania, who still gazed dumbly up at the ceiling. And that hope lies in Dania, he thought, as crazy as she seems right now. I have to trust her.

  With that thought, new memories sprang into his mind. He remembered when Maija first introduced him to Dania, and so many joyful, exciting, harrowing adventures they had shared since then. He remembered the conversation he’d had with Dania—was it just the night before? He realized he had no idea how long they had been in the cell. And then he remembered the couatl they had watched as it danced across the sky.

  “Krael,” Janik said, “our bargain is concluded and our alliance ended. Go where you want, but we will follow Dania. We won’t harm you as you leave this room, but if I see you again—”

  “Oh, you will see me again,” Krael said.

  “If I see you again, I’ll do my level best to kill you. Thank you for your help. Now get out of my sight.”

  Without another word, Krael stalked over to the massive door and threw it open, Sever following close behind. And then they were gone.

  “Oh, thank the Sovereigns,” Mathas said quietly.

  Janik placed a gentle hand on Dania’s shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Dania’s eyes met his again briefly, and she smiled a faint, beatific smile. “Up,” she said quietly.

  Mathas used his spell of levitation to launch himself up to the gallery, then he tied a rope to the balustrade so the others could climb. Once her feet were on the gallery floor, Dania set off toward one of the small doors, leaving Janik to help Auftane over the railing and pull up the rope before hurrying to catch up with her. She led them along narrow hallways, not even hesitating when the passages branched. Here and there, they made their way up short flights of stairs, marking their gradual progress toward the top of the ziggurat, assuming that Dania was correct.

  As they walked side by side down a long wide hall, Janik held Mathas back briefly and spoke to him quietly.

  “What do you make of this, Mathas?” he asked.

  “There is definitely a presence in this place,” Mathas said thoughtfully. “I cannot distinguish it—to me, it’s almost like being in a dark room and feeling someone else with you, but not being able to tell whether it’s a friend or a drooling monster.” He paused. “I must say, I wish that comparison were not so vivid.”

  “So why does Dania hear it so much more clearly?” Janik said. “She claimed she could hear two voices, the binder and the bound. How does she know she’s following the right one?”

  “Dania is far more sensitive to the realm of spirits than you or I, Janik. I believe she knows what she is doing.”

  Auftane hurried along and caught up with them, pointing ahead to the end of the hall. “Excuse me,” he said, “but she seems to have found something.”

  Dania had reached a door and thrown it open, revealing a staircase spiraling upward. She quickly reached the top of the stairs and pushed open a trap door in the ceiling, releasing a flood of argent light into the hallway. As Janik watched, she climbed through the trap door, a small dark shape silhouetted against the warm radiance, and disappeared. Cursing himself, Janik ran to catch up to her.

  He stormed up the stairs and through the trap door, then stopped dead. Behind and below him, he heard Mathas gasp and Auftane swear quietly as they reached the top of the stairs.

  They were at the pinnacle of the ziggurat, it was clear. Long, low windows set into the massive stone blocks offered them a spectacular view of the city around them and the desert beyond. Somehow, even the barren golden desert seemed vibrant and alive in what must have been midday sunshine—as if some spirit of the ancient jungle still remained, teeming with the life of its thousands of inhabitants.

  The chamber was hard to see clearly in the intense brightness. Their eyes were accustomed to the dim light of Janik’s lantern in the dark passages, and the daylight alone would have made them blink and squint. Janik tried briefly to convince himself that the daylight was the source of the radiance that had spilled into the hallway below—but that did not explain its strange silver hue.

  No—the stone chamber was on fire—blazing with silver flame, or perhaps the Silver Flame, for all Janik knew. Lines of argent fire covered the entire floor in an intricate pattern, like snakes twisted in endless coils. Where the lines crossed each other, they sometimes flared as high as Janik’s knees. Dania was kneeling in the midst of them, numerous tongues of flame caressing her, but she was clearly not in any pain.

  Dania was on her knees, her body erect from her knees to her shoulders. Her head was thrown back, her helm lay on the floor beside her, and her arms were spread wide to her sides. Her eyes were open and seemed fixed on some point out the window ahead. Her face wore an expression of utter rapture.

  The flames pulsed along the lines on the floor. The rhythm of its movement reminded Janik of the couatl’s flying dance, and he began to feel a connection. As he looked at the elaborate stonework in the chamber, he noticed serpent imagery everywhere—snakes ringed the windows, their heads meeting above the center, and the columns were shaped into majestic winged serpents.

  What is this place? Janik thought. Why would a cult of giants and rakshasas dedicated to the imprisoned rajah build this shrine to the couatl that bound it?

  As he resolved to pursue further research about serpent cults among the giants, the floor erupted into a storm of leaping flames. What had been tiny rivulets of fire exploded into blazing ribbons reaching almost as high as the ceiling, roaring like a hungry tiger. Janik drew his sword instinctively, and he felt Mathas and Auftane startled out of their own reveries.

  Dania did not move.

  The flames closed around her, forming a ring and then a column to engulf her. Janik started to rush forward, reaching out to grab her and heave her free of the fire before she was consumed, but the instant he touched her, the fire stopped. The column winked out, the lines on the floor went dark, and the daylight seemed dim by comparison.

  Dania’s arms dropped to her sides and she slowly rose to her feet.

  “Dania?” Janik said quietly, gently lifting her by the elbow. “Are you hurt?”

  She stood, her head hanging limply and her hair covering her face. Slowly, she brought a hand up to her throat. She lifted her head to look at Janik, brushing her hair out of her face. His gaze fell first on a gleam of silver at her throat, a torc shaped like a twisting serpent coiled around her neck. He was quite sure it had not been there before the fire engulfed her.

  Then her eyes met Janik’s, and he took a step back in surprise.

  They had been a dusky blue, like the sky before a storm, but not any more. They were like pools of quicksilver, firmly focused on him and, he felt, seeing perhaps more than he would have liked.

  She smiled, and her eyes glistened as she took his hands in hers. “I’m fine, Janik,” she said. She held his gaze for a moment longer, then her eyes settled on Mathas and Auftane, lingering for a moment on the dwarf before turning back to Janik. She raised a hand to touch his cheek and smiled at
him again. “Do not let your heart be troubled, Janik. I have chosen this path, and I am not afraid.”

  Janik had no idea what she meant, but there was a certainty in her gaze and her voice, and a warm comfort in her touch that eased the worry from his brow and softened the knot of anxiety in his heart.

  “We need to move,” Dania said. “Krael and Sever have already entered the heart of the temple.”

  Dania picked up her helmet and settled it on her head as Mathas and Janik shared a helpless glance. Auftane was distracted, staring out the window as he waited for Dania to lead the way.

  She gripped her sword, and with a quick glance back to make sure the others were following, started down the stairs. She retraced their steps almost all the way back to the chamber where they had fought the giant, but led them instead to a steeply descending staircase. Another maze of passages greeted them on the lower level, but Dania led them with as much confidence as she had shown earlier—except this time, she kept glancing back to make sure her friends were following.

  “We haven’t seen a single guard since we killed the giant,” Janik observed as they hurried after Dania, hustling to keep up with her purposeful strides.

  “True,” Mathas said. “I’m not sure how to interpret that.”

  “I know,” Janik said. Part of him was relieved—he wanted to reach Maija as quickly as possible, especially if there was any chance that Krael might kill her before they arrived. But he also worried. “I wonder if Maija—if the Fleshrender—called all the zakyas back to this ‘heart of the temple’ to defend her.”

  “Not to mention more of those giants,” Auftane piped up from behind them.

  “I had hoped no one would mention the giants,” Janik said with a grim smile. “That could be the end of it.”