by Clayton, Jo;
Near the archway with its blue-green tapestry a nayid form lay crumpled on the floor, still and stiff, a black finger sticking from her neck … knife … in her throat Aleytys turned stiffly back to the hiiri. “How?”
Aamunkoitta shrugged. “People forget, get careless. Especially hyonteinens. They think we’re too stupid to plan and wait. She was coming to drug you again. I thought if you would wake up, you could talk to your spirits, do something, make the kipu pay for your lover, kill that damn bitch. Mind or body, like you killed the mind of that hyonteinen guard.”
“Mind?” Aleytys struggled to remember. “Sukall.”
“Her body lived until the kipu tired of having her cared for and had her strangled. But her mind was burnt away.”
“Ah.” Aleytys shivered as the sudden grief came searing back. Bringing with it an agony of loss. For a short breath of time nothing else had meaning for her, the world faded, grayed out, but the knowledge that it was all six months past altering, the knowledge in her body that went far deeper than consciousness, the time center in her mind that counted the passing heartbeats, the thousand on thousand heartbeats that had passed since … it blunted the fury of her grief. She sighed and opened her eyes. “What happened?”
“Kunniakas?”
“In the settlement. Then.”
“The kipu came down on the settlement, sneaking her skimmers down in the dark before the sun awoke. When we woke the hyonteinens were all around us. We looked into the noses of those energy guns and could do nothing. The kipu herded the children into the skimmers, sent them off as hostages, questioned the rest, the women, old men. They drugged us to make us babble, but I doubt she found much, at least what I heard was willed lie … Burash … she found him, beat him, drugged him, he told her nothing even under the drugs, he screamed, he cried, not like a man, not like one of our men, but he told her nothing at all, he wouldn’t speak your name, he wouldn’t say a word, he screamed his pain into her face and defied her even with his screaming and so she let him rest. I suppose she thought he was hurt worse than he was, cowed into terror, but when you came in on the horse and the kipu saw you, she forgot about him, me. I was there too, she made me watch.” Aamunkoitta swallowed, her small face filled with shame. “I promised you he would be safe, Kunniakas, I gave my word.…”
“You couldn’t help that, Kitten.” The sound of the pet name Aleytys used for her brought a wail from the hiiri. She caught hold of Aleytys’ hand and pressed it against her face.
“You came riding in alone,” she murmured. “He … he’d worked his hands free. They watched you, couldn’t take their eyes off you. Even in their trap, their trap closing and you unaware, they were jittering in their terror of you. I laughed inside to see it Burash didn’t waste his time gloating. Somehow he freed his hands. He jerked the ropes from his legs. He ran out to warn you.”
“And Sukall shot him.”
“Yes.”
“How did you get away?”
“They weren’t watching me. They went out to you and left me. I got free and ran into the trees. I suppose by the time the kipu remembered me and sent someone for me I was too far away. Anyway I saw a few skimmers but no one bothered me.”
“And while I lay here?” Aleytys plucked at the cover with shaking fingers. “What did you do? How’d you.…”
“How did I live?” Aamunkoitta stared down at her hands. “I got to Nakivas. Well.” She shrugged. “I lived. It was difficult.”
“I see. You finally came to me. Why?”
“I … I couldn’t leave you in the kipu’s hands. I argued with Nakivas, quarreled until he threw me out of camp.”
Aleytys felt the quiet desperation in the little body. “You have my thanks, for what that’s worth. But why?”
“I had to do it. Perhaps Burash’s spirit is restless, won’t let me rest, perhaps the henkiolento maan have bound me to serve you.”
“Don’t say that!”
“Huh?”
“I thought it worked on men. Oh god. No, Kitten. I’m the one, it’s me doing this to you. Even if I don’t want to. There’s some kind of thing in me that binds people to me.” She shook her head. “I have affection for you, Kitten. I don’t want a slave. You can have a good life without me.”
Aamunkoitta lifted her head and smiled. “So I am under geas to serve you. Where you go, I go. Or I die. I know it in the center of my bones. I know it as the breath that passes in and out of me.”
“Well, there’s no use discussing it now.” Aleytys pushed against the bed, shoving her unresponsive body to a sitting position. Then a sudden thought jerked her sagging back straight. “Kitten. The eyes. Get out of here fast before.…”
“No.” The hiiri chuckled harshly. “The kipu’s too busy to bother about a sodden body. She’s got a dozen subtle rebellions on her hands. The other cities are seething with trouble and the queens defy her as much as they can, pushing her to the danger line of explosion again and again. The murder of Asshrud and your escape.… they stirred up ambition in those greedy bitches. Every day brings some new thing to keep her busy. She likes it, though, I think, because her power grows each time she triumphs, but the bubbling under the crust is still dangerous. So, with you drugged, Kunniakas, she pushed the problem of you into the back of her mind to make room for more pressing problems.”
“What about the hiiris?”
“They fight.” Aamunkoitta’s dark eyes flashed. “I still send news to Nakivas and he hits where the weak spots are.”
“Ah. And the kipu’s preoccupation is why you waited so long to waken me.”
“Yes. Until she forgot to be alert with you.”
Aleytys slid closer to the edge of the bed. “Help me stand. My body has turned to mush with all that lying in bed.”
Before Aamunkoitta could catch hold of her arm, the web tightened again jerking her back onto the bed. She was paralyzed, couldn’t move arms or legs, head forced into a dazed stare up at the gauzy curtains falling from the gilt insect, mouth locked shut, the old one’s face floating in the forefront of her mind, eyes glittering, mouth stretched in a triumphant smile.… It reminded her … reminded her of something … but she couldn’t remember, she didn’t want to remember, something wiggled away or rather, she slid away from looking at it.… The old one’s image fluttered, broke into fragments, reformed.
“No.” The word hissed malevolently through her brain, through her body, she could feel it in her toes, rustling in the middle of her, screaming in her brain. “No.”
Aleytys screamed silently, the muscles in her face straining against the control of the webbing, the claustrophobic mesh that locked her from her own body … the sensation was weirdly familiar … she refused to think of that … no, she thought at the old one, denying her, no … and her answer was a triumphant peal of laughter that went on and on.
Without thinking, acting from instinct alone, she reached for the power river and plunged her symbolic body into the symbolic waters, the symbols strong as … stronger than … so-called reality, images that represented a reality that went beyond what hominid mind could grasp. Writhing, struggling, she held herself in the flow of power though the old one fought too, fought to draw her back from the river. Like a hand-to-hand battle by two wrestlers struggling in a tub of mud each striving to control the actions of the other, trying … testing each other, each spot to find a weakness … slowly, slowly she forced the old one to retreat, the black water powering her body-mind strength, peeling the rubbery tendrils of the old one loose, forcing her to retreat, losing her grip on nerve and muscle … first the head, the center of consciousness, then arms, legs, the periphery of her physical being; the cilia retreated gradually as they were made too uncomfortable to hang onto their holds. Like fish line the old one reeled them in until Aleytys’ body was freed of them and they had retreated into the central mass nestling in Aleytys’ womb.
A rising tide of triumph burnt wild in her blood and her body went into birth contractions. Pain tore through h
er but she laughed her triumph into the night darkness of the bedroom. The old one tore at her, lacerating her organs but the black water poured in, healing the wounds fast as they were made. Slowly, slowly, in spite of her struggles, her desperate battle to remain inside the laboring body, the old one, blasting out rage and hatred, was forced out of the womb. The contractions quickened, intensified, strengthened.
Screaming silently in terror and blind anger, the nayid embryo still clawing and fighting was propelled into the chill night air. Swathed in blood, wound about with the gelatinous cilia, the thing floundered, raged, died.
And the black waters raged through Aleytys’ battered, exhausted body.
A while … length unknown … Aleytys opened her eyes, feeling light and free, almost happy … there was still that thing she had forgotten. It teased at her at intervals but she ignored the prod. She sat up and looked around. Aamunkoitta, hidden in the folds of the curtains, stared at her, mouth open, horror written in the slack muscles of her face. Aleytys moved impatiently, felt a cold slimy lump between her legs. She looked down.
In the dim moonlight that shone through the narrow slit in the wall-window tapestry, she saw the misshapen lump staining the pale sheets, a gray nauseating stinking mess. She slid off the bed, careful not to touch it again.
“What’s that?” Aamunkoitta spoke slowly, reluctantly, surrendering momentarily to her curiosity. “It isn’t …”
“No child of mine. That’s the old queen’s reincarnated flesh. She’s dead at last, finally absolutely dead.” Aleytys glanced back at the thing on the bed with a quiet satisfaction, then turned away briskly. “I need a bath.”
“Now?” Aamunkoitta sounded strongly disapproving.
“No.” Aleytys chuckled, the sound odd in the chill silent room. “Naked I came into this world, naked it seems I leave it.”
“What?”
“Nothing, Kitten.” She pulled the tapestry aside and palmed the light on in the bathroom. Leaving Aamunkoitta hopping impatiently from foot to foot she stepped inside.
Later, with the luxurious warmth of the bath still clinging to her, Aleytys drifted sleepily out of the bathroom. “Kitten?”
“Here, Kunniakas.” The hiiri crouched in the shadow beside the bed almost invisible a few feet away.
Aleytys wrapped the towel around her damp hair. She looked around. “I wonder if there’s anything to wear left in this prison.”
Aamunkoitta shrugged. She stood up. “Why don’t you leave?” she whispered. “There aren’t any guards out there now.”
Aleytys smiled. “No,” she said softly. “No, I have too many things to do here.” She moved along the wall then twitched the tapestry aside again.
In the clothing storeroom the shelves and pegs were bare with one exception. Folded neatly, covered with a faint film of dust, the white leather suit from the hiiris lay waiting for her. She shook the folds out. Before anonymous hands had laid the thing away, they’d cleaned off the dirt and blood, leaving a few faint almost invisible stains behind. It smelled a little musty. Aleytys wrinkled her nose.
Suddenly the memory of the last time she wore the dress flooded her mind, the red flare, the black screaming silhouette.
She thought she would cry. Her eyes burned. No. No more tears left, just a sick feeling in her stomach, a lonely coldness that left a bitter taste in her mouth. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall for a minute until the bad time passed.
Fixing her mind on the moment, sliding away from the disturbing memory Aleytys slipped into the deep fringed tunic, the soft supple leggings, the moccasin-boots and walked dully out of the room carefully palming the light off, carefully pulling the tapestry back over the arch, arranging the folds into straight symmetrical pleating.
She walked stiffly across the room to the door in the glass wall and touched the milky square that opened it. Looking back over her shoulder she stretched her mouth in a brief travesty of a smile. “Come,” she said softly.
Keeping in the shadow Aleytys circled the open grass of the garden. At the stream she hesitated a minute, then stepped from stone to stone and in two strides was on the grass on the other side. She reached out, touched the smooth cool stalk of bamboo. It bent with a springy resilience that pierced her self-involvement, shocking her back into the here and now, into the immanent and dangerous present.
“Why do you stop?” Aamunkoitta’s warm body pressed against her. Her whisper was barely louder than the rustling leaves. “Go on, you know where.”
“Quiet, Kitten.” She drew in a deep breath and let it trickle out again. “No. I came here for another reason. Wait a minute.”
Aleytys lifted her eyes and searched the face of the cliff. She found the hairline break then closed her fingers tightly around a thick bamboo cane and shut her eyes. For a time, long enough to send her heart into a panic flutter her stomach knotting painfully, nothing happened. Then the eyeless seeing came creakily back.
Layered with dust and spattered with rain splotches, small leaves plastered to the grip, the energy gun lay hidden, still waiting for her. If she could get it down. She struggled to reach out, to project the mind fingers to catch hold of the weapon. Again her mind creaked with disuse. She reached for the gun. “Ah,” she gasped, “come on … come on.…”
Her legs began to tremble and she slid down, still holding onto the bamboo until she was kneeling on the grass. “Come on to me,” she whispered.
The minutes dragged past. Sweat streamed over the contours of her face, soaked her hair wet again under the towel. She opened her eyes and slumped heavily.
“Kunniakas?” Aleytys felt small hands touch her. The hiiri’s whisper was anxious, uncertain.
“I’m trying too hard.” Aleytys slid her hand up and down the smooth bamboo cylinder. “It isn’t working.”
“Kunniakas, I don’t know what you’re talking about, but.…” Aamunkoitta hesitated, her hands warm on Aleytys’ arm. “The henkiolento maan. Let them help you.”
Aleytys frowned at her.
“Or your spirits. Call on them.”
“You said that before. Spirits? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Down there.” Aamunkoitta nodded at the mahazh. “I heard you. Heski, you said, or something like that. You said that and Heski or whatever it was swept us out safe.”
“Heski?” Aleytys rubbed her hands over her aching eyes. “I don’t remember anything like that Heski?” She tried to remember because it sounded important, but there was nothing in her head like that, nothing at all. Shaking her tired head she raised up a little on her knees, then shifted her legs around until she was sitting, the earth cold even through the leather. Then through the cold, without displacing it, a warmth leaped through her, flowing up from the earth, up from the world itself, a welcoming soothing strengthening warmth even while she was beginning to tremble from the cold that struck clear to her bones. She spread her hands out flat on the ground on either side of her legs.
“Henkiolento maan,” Aamunkoitta breathed.
Aleytys paid little attention to her. A new calm, a new assurance was warm inside her. She reached out to the weapon and lifted it smoothly. Smoothly, surely she brought it down the cliff, swung it out over the treetops and brought it gently to rest in her lap. Reluctantly she lifted her hands from the earth, breaking the contact so that the warmth flowed away and she was shivering continuously. She got to her feet. “I’ve gotten out of the habit of enduring cold.”
Aamunkoitta jumped up. Eyes sparking, she touched the weapon, shivering a little in her awe. “An energy gun.”
Aleytys nodded. “I’ve a delivery to make. There’s a … it’s probably dangerous.”
The hiiri shrugged. “What isn’t? But I think we should leave this place now.”
Aleytys shook her head. “No. But you can go if you want. I’ve got something to show the kipu.”
“Ahgh.” The sound was a low shapeless growl deep in the hiiri’s throat.
“Come if
you want.” Aleytys stepped across the stream again and stalked into the mahazh. She stopped by the bed.
Aamunkoitta frowned in puzzlement until Aleytys stripped the sheet from the bed and gathered it into a bundle with the stinting already decomposing embryo. Aleytys laughed angrily and bitterly. “A good present, don’t you think, Kitten?”
“Good.” The hiiri opened her mouth in a fierce grin and a silent feral pleasure shone in her eyes. “Trade. A life for a life.”
The triumph spilled briefly out of Aleytys. “That’s no balance,” she muttered. She crossed the room to the lift, clutching the improvised sack in one hand, the weapon in the other. Tucking the gun under her arm she pressed her hand over the panel. “No. To pay for that life …!” She leaned her forehead against the bluish stone. “Nothing’s enough.”
The lift door slid open, releasing a flood of yellow light Aleytys set the bag on the floor. “Wait,” she said sharply. “I need something to buy passage.” She stepped past the hiiri. “Wait for me in there, will you?”
Without bothering about an answer she ran back into the bedroom. When she returned she had a large wooden box slung by soft ropes over her shoulder. “The queen’s jewels,” she said briefly.
Aamunkoitta nodded approvingly. Then she glanced at the bag on the floor of the lift. “What now?”
“The kipu’s nest.”
CHAPTER XXVII
Aleytys handed the sheet to Aamunkoitta. “You know what to do?” she whispered.
“Sure.” The hiiri’s breathed answer was vibrant with excitement.
Flattening her hands against the warded metal Aleytys probed the lock. After a brief struggle she sucked in a deep breath, filling her lungs then letting the air trickle out again, her body relaxing, for the lock was unlocked, the wards neutralized. For a moment longer she rested, leaning on the hands pressed against the metal.
