“No matter, as long as we’re going the right way. But Shima, I must look outside. I—I hate this darkness.”
With that, she ran to the tunnel wall below the opening. To her relief, there were hand and footholds. She began climbing, Shima right behind her.
It wasn’t far, and there was a ledge as if some considerate being had arranged for one so that they could crouch side by side and look out upon the world.
True, she thought wryly, all there was to see was the red rock and hard-packed soil of a steep slope, and the needled plants that grew everywhere in this land, but the sunlight was pure joy, and the air fresh. She breathed it in, her eyes closed, her face raised to the warmth and light, enjoying this little miracle—until she heard Shima gasp, “Tefira!”
“What?” she said in confusion, opening her eyes once more.
Then she saw them, and the world froze around her.
Fifty-four
“Oh, dear gods! Shima—you’ve got to help them!” Maurynna gripped the rocks in front of her at the sight of Raven, wounded and bleeding, stumbling along the valley floor as Tefira supported him on one side. The valley guards herded them along with jabs from their spears and pikes.
Yes, he was a fool to disobey and follow you—but if everyone who’d ever played the fool died for it, there would be precious few people in the world. He doesn’t deserve to die.
Tefira, they would make a slave; Raven, they would kill as an outlander demon. She was as certain of that as she was of the tides. Her blood turned to ice at the thought of it.
“Shima,” she pleaded when he didn’t move.
He turned to her, emotions warring in his face. “What would you have me do?” he said. “My duty is to you. They’ve brought this upon themselves.”
Harsh words that the misery in his eyes belied. That was his brother down there. And while he might not care much for Raven, Shima certainly didn’t wish Raven’s death, either. The anguished look on his face told her that.
“Go,” she said. “Distract the guards—there aren’t too many of them. Give Raven and the boy at least a chance to get away. I’ll … I release you from my service. I can go on alone, truly I can, Shima. I can feel Pirakos; that will guide me.”
He made no move to leave her.
Her fists clenched. If she had to drive him away from her by force, she would. Then, without her willing it, words sprang unbidden to her lips. “Dragonlord’s orders!” she snapped. “Go!”
How stupid; the words would mean nothing to Shima. He’d not been raised on legends of—
But the Tah’nehsieh was scrambling out of the hole and slinking between the rocks and scrubby bushes that clung to the sloping canyon wall before she could blink. He moved like a shadow, slipping from one impossible hiding place to another, making his way downhill faster than Maurynna would have believed possible.
She glanced at the canyon floor once more. The guards marched their prisoners along with harsh words and an occasional blow. One guard poked Raven with his spear; Maurynna heard Raven’s faint cry. Blood welled up, staining his tunic.
She raged in silent fury as prisoners and guards passed by below. Helplessness sat ill with her, but she must leave this to Shima. That, or break her oath to Morlen. And that she would not do.
At least, not while there was another way.
She looked once more for Shima. But there was no sign of him. Only sheer will kept her from jumping to her feet to search the slope below for him. Had he run away? No, if he were the kind to break, Zhantse would not have chosen him as her companion. Though she’d known him for only a few days, she trusted the Seer. Why, she wasn’t certain. But trust him, she did.
Then a flash of movement caught her eye. Had she been truehuman, she doubted she would have seen it. Shima seemed to flow across the ground like a shadow.
Then he was at the base of the slope and out in the open. She chewed her knuckles as Shima raced across the canyon floor behind the unsuspecting guards and started up the other side.
Thank the gods the canyon is narrow here. But what is he’s planning?
While she watched, he changed direction. Now, instead of heading upslope, he traversed it in the same direction that the five guards herded Raven and Tefira. He moved quickly. No doubt, she thought, he depended on the guards not thinking to look up.
Now he had nearly caught up with the little group. Maurynna thought she could see where he was making for: a point where the canyon narrowed even more. She still could not guess Shima’s plan, but whatever it was, she hoped it worked. And now she must be away—or else be forsworn. It was all up to Shima.
It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. But she turned her back on the scene below and returned to the darkness that waited to swallow her once more.
Shima darted from boulder to boulder, kaqualla bush to kaqualla bush, their sharp grey-green, needlelike leaves pricking him each time he slid into their shelter. Once, while out in the open, he slipped on a loose stone and dislodged a shower of pebbles. They tumbled down the slope. To him it sounded like an avalanche; he froze, afraid even to breathe, hoping that his dun-colored breeches and sleeveless tunic, and his dark skin, would blend in with the colors of the canyon wall should one of the guards look in his direction.
None did. Indeed, it seemed they hadn’t heard a thing. He exhaled shakily. He’d been lucky this time. Yet now he must hurry even more if he was to reach his goal in time—and that meant more chances to catch the attention of the guards.
But it had to be done. He set off again, moving as fast as he dared.
It wasn’t good enough; the group below already had a lead on him. Now it had increased, and he didn’t think he could close it once more. He cursed under his breath.
I must get ahead of them before they reach the exit to this canyon. If only they’d slow down! He drove himself on, straining every nerve and muscle in a nightmarish—and likely futile—scramble across the treacherous slope.
Just when he was certain he’d fail, something happened below. Shima paused long enough to see that Tefira was down and clutching one ankle. Raven knelt beside him; bloodstains spread across his tunic from numerous small cuts, dark against the pale cloth. The guards clustered around them with curses and shouted orders. Shima seized the opportunity and flung himself across the slope without any effort at concealment. If he could just make that group of boulders just ahead … .
There! He collapsed among them, breathing hard. Thank the Spirits he’d made it without attracting notice from below.
Then the world went mad—or he did. Suddenly, the desert scents he’d known all his life overwhelmed him. The dry, dusty smell of the rocks and sand, the sharp, resinous smell of bruised kaqualla that clung to his clothes, a thousand other subtle scents, all hammered at him. He bit his lip to keep from crying out.
And, Spirits help him, he should not be able to hear so clearly the curses the guards heaped on the unfortunate Tefira.
His eyes betrayed him next. One moment his vision was normal; the next, everything stood out so clearly it was painful. He could see details of the group below that he should not have seen from this distance, not in a thousand years.
A botched darn on one guard’s tunic caught his stunned attention. His gaze fastened on the uneven stitches as if nothing else mattered in the world.
Is this what an eagle sees like? he wondered. His mind tumbled over itself in a welter of confused sights and sounds and smells. Was he stricken with a sudden fever? Or just gone mad at last?
Yet mad or not, he had a mission. Staggering, Shima rose to his feet once more. He pushed his fear away and darted out from the shelter of the rocks. Once more he made his way across the slope. He drew ahead of the men below, their pace slowed by the limping Tefira.
As he slid and slithered from hiding place to hiding place, the world receded to normal almost without his noticing it. He sighed in relief even as he ran. All was once more as it should be.
Or was it? Were things j
ust a bit sharper, colors a bit brighter? He refused to think about it.
For now his goal lay ahead of him: a large, round boulder balanced precariously by a few small rocks. It was a wonder the recent tremors hadn’t dislodged it already. He hoped he had better luck.
Now, he prayed as he covered the last stretch to the boulder, let Raven and Tefira stay ahead of the guards; those bastards can’t want to get too close to a potential demon … .
He was in place. Pressed against the boulder, Shima looked around it to the canyon floor below, watching the group below. With a shock he saw that Tefira, under the guise of talking to Raven, was instead searching the slope. Darting a quick glance to make certain none of the guards were also interested, Shima dared to raise a hand for the briefest of moments. Tefira lurched and came to rest against Raven, one hand now grasping the Yerrin’s arm as if seeking to steady himself; Shima saw and knew the motion for what it was: an exaggerated nod.
But how had the boy known he was here?
Now Raven and Tefira were almost abreast of his position. On a hunch, Shima raised his hand once more. Tefira started running, dragging a surprised Raven after him. There was no sign of a limp now.
Shima almost laughed aloud. The boy had been faking a twisted ankle all this time!
Still, just how—A thought struck Shima. Maybe the boy was meant for a Seer after all.
Enough of that. He still had work to do. From sheer surprise, Raven and Tefira had gained a fair headstart. They ran swift as hares as they coursed among the rocks.
But now the guards were after them. Staying out of sight behind a rock, Shima cupped his hands to his mouth and bellowed in Jehangli, “Sergeant!”
The guard with the most braid on his armor stopped in confusion; he looked wildly around.
“Those two are just a diversion, you fools! There are Tah’nehsieh warriors up here, curse them. Hurry!”
The sergeant hesistated. Shima let loose with flood of curses that he’d heard once from a thwarted Jehangli general who’d picked the worst route to try to invade the mehanso. The soldiers below him blanched and started up the slope without further delay.
Shima watched from a narrow crack between two rocks. He waited as the armored men grunted their way toward him. Just a little more would see the guards into the trap. “Come along, little idiots, come along,” Shima whispered as if he talked to his family’s flock of sheep.
But unfortunately the sergeant had somewhat more wits than any of the woolly idiots Shima had once herded. The man stopped, waved his squad to a halt, and called, “But, sir, where are the Tah’—”
Shima cut him off. “Over the ridge, of course, you idiot,” he raged like a man in a towering fury. The others are holding them at bay. Now move, you sorry donkey turds, else I charge you with cowardice!”
At that, the men started climbing once more and at a much smarter pace. Better to face armed Tah’nehsieh than the punishment reserved for cowards, no doubt. Shima had counted on that fear.
Closer … closer … a few more steps … . Now!
Shima set his shoulder to the stone and heaved.
The great boulder teetered—but nothing more. Cursing in frustration, Shima tried again. He must send it tumbling! Else they would be upon him and he would be a dead man.
Frantic, he heaved again. The stone wouldn’t move.
And now he could hear the heavy breathing of the soldiers as they labored up the steep slope.
Shei-Luin went up to the altar in the Temple of the Phoenix in Rivasha, the holiest of the temples of Jehanglan, and lit nine sticks of incense. She placed them in the gold stand, and bowed her head in prayer.
She prayed for Jehanglan, for Tsiaa, for her children’s safety, for Yesuin’s safety, and for Xiane, that he might shelter beneath the Phoenix’s wing. She prayed for the strength to do all that needed to be done, to guide an empire until her son was old enough. She prayed for Lord Jhanun to fall into her power; she would revenge the wrongs done Nama.
When she was done, she turned to the waiting head priest. “I would see the palace of the Phoenix,” she said.
For a moment she thought he would refuse; she was, after all, only a woman. But she was also the empress of Jehanglan. He bowed, saying, “This way, Phoenix Lady,” and led her from the temple through a passage behind the altar.
They came out upon a stairway of white marble that stretched up the last of the slope of the holy mountain of Rivasha. At the top of the stairs was a tower, also of white marble. She had taken a litter to the temple; the walk from the bottom of the mountain to the temple had been a long one. She knew better than to ask for one here; even emperors went afoot to the Phoenix. She lifted her robes and began the long climb. When the priest would have stopped Murohshei, Shei-Luin turned to him.
Their gazes met, battled; the priest dropped his hand. Shei-Luin went on; Murohshei followed.
At last she stood upon the tower. Before her was the Palace of the Phoenix, the sacred heart of Jehanglan. Mount Kajhenral was a necessary evil; this, she’d been told, was all beauty and goodness.
From her father’s teachings, she knew that this mountain was one of the dead volcanoes that dotted Jehanglan. Like many of them, its top had sunk in to form a bowl. Set all around the crater were boulders of white quartz glinting in the sun.
Yet while many of those other dead mountains held lakes in their craters, this one held light—a pure, white light that swirled with gold at the base defined by the quartz boulders.
It looks just like a giant, upside-down bowl! She nearly giggled at the thought. Somehow, she’d always pictured a palace like the imperial palace, with the Phoenix perched upon a tower. This was, she had to admit, somewhat of a disappointment—just an upside-down bowl of light, like the smaller ones that held the crowns, that hid whatever was—
Something moved inside the light. Shei-Luin gasped. Whatever it was, it had been huge. No, not a whatever—she had seen the Phoenix. She bowed to it, but the shadow was gone.
When she returned to the temple, Shei-Luin said to the high priest, “I wish my sons to see this, to receive the blessing of the Phoenix. I will await them here. Murohshei, go to the palace and bring Xahnu and Xu to me when they awaken from their naps.”
The head priest bowed to her and said, “This way, then, Phoenix Lady. There’s a set of chambers for the use of the imperial family when they visit; I shall bring you there.”
As Murohshei departed on his errand, Shei-Luin followed the priest.
The tunnel ended in a huge cavern. Maurynna jumped down to the cavern floor. She held the coldfire before her, but the space was so huge that its light was but a feeble glow that revealed nothing.
Then, once again, the will of the Other slammed against her, and the coldfire died.
Fifty-five
Once more Shima set his shoulder to the round boulder. This time he pushed so hard that his joints cracked and his vision swam.
Nothing.
Perhaps it was the almost superhuman effort; perhaps not. But suddenly the world was too sharp, too clear once more. Startled, Shima heaved one last time.
The boulder tumbled from its precarious base with an ease that sent him reeling. He went down on hands and knees. Somehow he kept his wits about him long enough to look below.
The boulder picked up speed as it hurtled down the slope. With a sound like thunder, it swept other boulders and rocks before it. In moments, the single stone had become an avalanche.
The looks of horror on the faces of the leading men cut Shima to his soul. The poor wretches barely had time to scream before they were crushed like insects.
He felt sick. This was not the first time he’d killed a man; even though he was no warrior, he’d once fought to defend himself, his family, and the others in the spring pilgrimage to the Holy Mountain of the Lady when they’d been attacked by a stray patrol of Jehangli warriors. But that time it had been face-to-face. This …
He shook his head. He’d had no choice but to use
whatever weapons he could lay hand to; now he’d best take thought to saving his own skin. With the boulder gone, so was his concealment. And not all of the Jehangli had been caught; he could see at least two who, being lower down, had cast themselves to the sides and safety. Now the faces that turned up to him revealed animal fury and a lust for revenge; a lust that would not be satisfied until they had spitted him on the ends of their spears and watched his blood flow while he thrashed in a lingering death.
Shima jumped to his feet and ran.
Murohshei sat in the nursery, waiting patiently for the children to waken. He knew from bitter experience that, if woken early, Xahnu would be cranky for the rest of the day. He smiled down at the little emperor-to-be, sleeping peacefully with his thumb in his mouth, the dark fringe of his lashes like crescent moons upon his cheeks. His brother lay beside him, a smile on his plump-cheeked face.
Zyuzin plopped down on the cushions beside him. “It will be a while,” he whispered ruefully, “because we just got them settled a short time ago.” He nodded at the children’s nurses, who sat a little ways off, gossiping with their heads together. “Took me ages to sing them to sleep.”
Murohshei shrugged. “So? The temple will still be there, and our lady understands.”
Malevolence lurked in that darkness; if she took one more step into it, it would be on her like a snowcat on its prey. She dared not create another ball of coldfire. Until she had a better idea of what was in here, she would not reveal her position. She had never been afraid of the dark before, but this terrified her. If only Linden was here with her … . If only someone could be here with her.
But the darkness was not the worst of it. For now the stench of the place attacked like a living, malignant thing. It nearly overwhelmed her; she clapped a hand over her mouth and fought her rebellious stomach down. The acrid reek wound around her and brought tears to her eyes. She wondered if she’d ever be able to scrub the stink off.
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