Pekari -The Azure Fish

by Guenevere Lee

  “Have you heard of the blood ceremony?”

  “I, uh—” What was the right answer?

  Dedelion let the blade touch his skin, tracing from his sternum up to his neck, not hard enough to cut, but he could feel the cold of the metal.

  “Y-yes, yes,” Kareth pulled on the chains around his wrists. Surely he could slip his hands out of them…

  “Did your witches teach it to you?”

  Kareth shook his head insistently. “It’s secret. Their secret.”

  “Where is your rattlecloak?”

  “Don’t have,” he answered quickly. He could feel the stiff edges of the metal cuffs cut into his flesh, but his wrists wouldn’t come loose.

  “No? Tzati Imotah said you wore one the first time he met you.”

  “Not me. Tersh, the other. She has one. I don’t. I…not old enough yet.”

  “Too bad,” Dedelion shrugged. “I hear its properties are quite special. It might have spared you this.”

  “Spare me what?”

  “I won’t lie to you, Kareth,” Dedelion moved to the wall, and pushed against it. To Kareth’s surprise the wall opened—a secret door—and behind it were shelves filled with scrolls and pottery. Dedelion took a large, golden bowl and left the room again, closing it behind him, the door disappearing once more. “This is going to hurt you.”

  “Please don’t,” his eyes were stinging, blurring over.

  Dedelion placed the bowl on the floor at the end of the stone, and for the first time, Kareth noticed the ridges on the table and the way the stone sloped towards them, clearly meant to collect liquid and lead them to the lip at the end of the slab, hanging over the bowl.

  “This is going to hurt,” Dedelion repeated with a smile as he raised the knife up, the blade glinting in the light, “and I am going to enjoy it.”

  CHALGOR

  IF ENOUGH PEOPLE CALL IT A GOD, THEN IT IS

  The valley was dead. That’s how it looked to Tersh. It was wide and large but devoid of life. It had been hidden from their sight that morning. They had begun the day high in the pass, the sun shining brightly, but in the valley below there was a thick, white cloud. As they descended, Tuthalya seemed weary and wasn’t interested in conversation. Soon they were in the cloud, only able to see an arm-span before them. Then suddenly, they were at the valley floor. There were rocks and dry thorn bushes here and there. Tuthalya’s easy smile had disappeared the moment the valley came into view, and Tersh knew they had come to an evil place.

  “They say this was once as beautiful as the other valleys, but the men here were wicked and the gods punished them. They rained stones upon them and ended all life here,” Tuthalya frowned. “We should move fast.”

  Tuthalya clicked his tongue, pulling on the ram’s lead to quicken his pace. There was no path, and they couldn’t see the sun, but Tuthalya seemed sure in his heading and Tersh followed.

  “What did they do?”

  “What?” Tuthalya’s voice seemed quieter than normal.

  “The men. Why did the gods punish them?”

  “Why do gods ever punish men? I thought you were the expert on that.”

  “I just know what I’m told from the Rhagepe,” she thought a moment, wondering how the Rhagepe might answer his question, thinking about her own situation. “I suppose…they forgot the old ways.”

  Tuthalya gave a low, grim laugh. “Yes, I suppose the gods would think that wicked. Murder and rape is glanced away from, but if you stop worshiping the gods properly, they send a flood.”

  “Flood? You said stones,” Tersh smiled, trying to break the sour mood.

  “I said they rained stones. A flood of water, a flood of rocks. What difference does it make?”

  “So there was a flood of…rocks, and then everyone died?”

  “That is what ‘ended all life’ means,” Tuthalya gave her an annoyed glance.

  “If everyone died, then where did the stories come from?” Tersh looked smug.

  “You will see,” a shadow of Tuthalya’s smile came back. “Now pick up your speed. We can’t stop here. We need to get to the other side before night falls.”

  She did see, soon after. As the day grew warmer, the weather seemed to improve. The cloud lifted, not enough for the sun to shine through, but they began to see clearly some distance away from them. Tersh saw something sticking up from the flat land, and as they came close, she realized they were ruins.

  Among what must have once been stone houses, now just piles of rubble scattered between long dead trees, they began to see the skeletons. They were brown and weathered, some seemed to have remaining scraps of clothing on them. Some had been half buried in dirt, and others had become so disseminated they no longer resembled humans. Many of the bones were broken. On the skulls, she saw gaping holes and understood where the stories came from. It did, indeed, look like large, heavy objects had fallen on them, crushing them. For this many to die at once, it must have been the gods.

  “Was this before or after the civil war?”

  Tuthalya frowned. “Before, it must have been. In every tale I’ve ever heard, this valley was a dark, shadowy place.”

  “Why leave them like this?” Tersh stopped and looked at the countless bones around her.

  “You should not bury the cursed. Come on.” He pulled the ram along. He had to urge it forward. The animal looked nervous, its ears and tail twitched uncomfortably.

  “The bones of the cursed are powerful,” Tersh said, a shiver running through her body.

  “Leave them be,” Tuthalya said dismissively.

  “I’m not the only one who thinks so…” she trailed off, her eyes picking out one skulls. It was whole, with no cracks or holes like the others, and had been placed on the top of a large boulder. It stared at her with hollow eyes, its teeth grinning. She moved towards it.

  Tuthalya looked back. “I said leave them be!”

  “The dead don’t mind,” Tersh said absent-mindedly.

  “It’s not the dead I fear.”

  “The gods then?” Tersh looked at him, a mischievous grin on her face.

  “The gods…?” Tuthalya looked at the cloudy sky, shaking his head slightly. “No…it’s living men I fear.”

  “There’s no one here alive, save you and I,” Tersh took another step towards the skull.

  “No one you can see,” Tuthalya looked around warily. “People either fear cursed places, or worship them.”

  “Let them worship,” Tersh said, reaching out for the skull. “I have my own gods to appease.”

  She hooked her fingers through the eyeholes and yanked the skull off the rock. She half expected the skies to completely darken and lightning to strike the ground, but everything remained as it was. She looked back at Tuthalya with a shrug, feeling strangely disappointed.

  “I guess no one’s worshiping today.”

  Tuthalya frowned. “Let’s just go.”

  Tersh smiled as she looped a rope through the eyes and tied the skull to her belt.

  “You and your skulls,” Tuthalya shook his head in disbelief.

  “The bones are where the living’s power resides. Why else do you think the bones last long after all else has rotted away?”

  “I don’t care. The dead should be left as they are…especially the cursed.”

  Tersh almost laughed. “I never realized you were so superstitious.”

  “You’re covered in bones head to toe,” Tuthalya remarked. “I’m not the superstitious one. I’m the practical one trying to keep you from getting us into trouble.”

  They continued on, the sound of loose stones crunching under their feet filling the silence around them. A cold wind moved in from the north, and Tersh wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. More clouds began to roll over the mountains, and soon there was a soft drizzle chilling them.

  “I thought it was summer. Isn’t it supposed to be warm?” Tersh asked through chattering teeth.

  “Not in a place like this.”

  The s
cream cut through the air like a knife through flesh. They stopped, looking at each other and then around the empty surroundings. The fog lay behind them, blocking the ruins from sight, and the way ahead was just as impossible to make out. The scream sounded like it had come from every direction at once.

  “A bird?” Tersh asked.

  “We should move faster,” Tuthalya said, slapping the backside of the ram and they took off at twice the pace.

  The scream came again in a different voice, and soon, others joined it. They weren’t screams of fear; they sounded like animals calling out a warning. They sounded angry. There was no doubt in Tersh’s mind now. The screams were undoubtedly coming from humans. They couldn’t tell from which direction. They echoed around the valley, either becoming louder or simply being joined by additional wild calls. They were practically running, the ram trotting alongside them and snorting in agitation, when they saw the figure standing in their way.

  He stood surrounded by the mist, the only thing visible to them. He was small in stature—thin and emaciated. He was naked, his body caked in mud and only the wind knew what else. His hair and beard were unshorn and wild, sticking out in all directions, bones and twigs weaved into the mess. His eyes were wide, shocking white against his dark face, and he held a rudimentary spear at the ready. He pointed at them with crooked fingers and spoke. His words sounded more as if he was spitting and coughing rather than using a real language, but Tuthalya listened intently.

  “What’s he saying?” Tersh raised her spear in anticipation of the attack.

  Although Tuthalya looked relaxed, his hand was tightly griping the hilt of his sword hanging at his waist.

  “I don’t know,” he shook his head, looking as though he were entranced by the man.

  “What is he?” Tersh didn’t know if she should turn and run or attack the man. She rocked on her feet uncertainly.

  “I don’t know,” Tuthalya unsheathed his sword and took a step forward. He shouted something in the Matawega tongue.

  The figure in the mist grunted, seeming to understand, but in reply he simply laughed, a cold rattling noise, and with a sudden scream he ran at them, his spear raised high, eyes wide, and tongue protruding with menace. The man might as well have been a wild animal running at them.

  “Take the ram!” Tuthalya pushed the lead into Tersh’s hands and moved forward the meet the man.

  The man jumped in the air, stabbing with his spear, and Tuthalya was easily able to deflect his weapon and step aside. Then he went to strike the man, but instead of turning to continue the fight, the man kept running, and was soon lost in the white surrounding them. They both looked around uncertainly. The only sound was the ram stamping its hooves with unease.

  “Come on!” Tuthalya motioned and they continued forward, speeding up so they were nearly running. The ram was becoming more and more agitated and brayed loudly.

  Another scream cut through the emptiness. This one was closer, and suddenly another man appeared from the mist to their right. He was just as wild and unkempt, but he swung a heavy wood club over his head. He ran towards Tersh, who aimed her spear at the attacker, but while holding the ram with her other hand she couldn’t throw it with any accuracy.

  Just as the man reached Tersh, Tuthalya stepped between them, his sword coming up and blocking the large club as it came down. His bronze blade lodged into the heavy dark wood. He tried to use the purchase of the blade to wrench the club away from him, but the man held out, twisting and turning, pulling and snapping his teeth at Tuthalya. Tersh was reminded of a crocodile twisting in the waters, thrashing around until it’s prey is dead.

  The weapons came apart, and just like the last man, this one turned, ran, and quickly disappeared.

  “We can’t stay here,” Tersh looked around nervously while the ram bucked and threatened to pull away. “Which way?”

  “You had to touch the damn bones, didn’t you?” Tuthalya glared at Tersh, and then turned to the mist surrounding them and yelled something in his own tongue, which Tersh didn’t understand, but from the tone it sounded like a challenge.

  They waited a moment longer, Tuthalya catching his breath from the scuffle. Then, he turned and took the lead of the ram back from Tersh. The beast seemed to calm down as soon as its familiar handler returned. “This way,” Tuthalya muttered, still looking around with unease and agitation. Then he suddenly stopped.

  Before them, multiple figures emerged from the fog. They were all men, equally filthy and wild as the two who had run at them, crazed feral looks in their eyes as they advanced. Tersh looked behind her and saw the figures emerging there too, surrounding them. There would be no running, and there were far too many to fight.

  Tuthalya shouted again, brandishing his sword in the air, and in return, the men raised their spears and the circle began to close around them. Tersh held her spear uncertainly, not sure if she should throw it or keep it to defend herself. There was a chance, there had to be a chance, that they could escape this with their lives. The Goddess of Death wouldn’t abandon her here before she had a chance to complete her mission. Unless she had already failed. Unless she was supposed to convince the kings in Hattute, and when she didn’t…

  As the panic began to creep up her throat as a scream, one of those advancing on Tersh stopped suddenly, and began to point at her, speaking in an excited voice. As more and more of them took notice of the one man’s panic, a wave of disarray engulfed them. Tersh was too stunned to move at first, and then she realized they weren’t pointing to her, but to the skull hanging at her side.

  She took the skull in her hand, quickly untying it and raising it high in the air. At once the men collapsed to their knees, moaning or muttering to themselves, grovelling before the hollow eyes that stared at them.

  “You were right. They do worship it,” Tersh smiled triumphantly.

  “Give it back, then,” Tuthalya hissed.

  “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

  Tuthalya looked over the crowd of men clawing at the stones as they knelt down. He shook his head. “Maybe not.” He yelled something at the men in his own tongue. A few of them howled in fright, and then began to move aside, creating an aisle in the circle of men for them to pass through.

  They didn’t wait. The moment a wide enough path was created, they moved quickly, dragging the ram along with them. Tersh looked back once and saw the men back on their feet, silently watching them slip into the fog, and then they were hidden from view.

  “Do you think they’ll follow us?” Tersh panted.

  “I told them if they did you’d smash their god,” Tuthalya said with a wink.

  “It’s not a god, it’s just a skull.”

  “If enough people call it a god, then it is.”

  They were soon going up, back into the mountains and away from the valley. The fog began to lift as the sun set, and when they looked back at the valley, they could finally see it clearly. It seemed empty and dead once more, and Tersh felt like she could breathe again. She hadn’t been abandoned; she hadn’t failed the gods. She looked at the skull and smiled. The Goddess of Death was with her.

  “We should go a little farther before we make camp,” Tuthalya suggested.

  “It will be too dark to keep going soon,” Tersh tied the skull back to her belt.

  “I still want to put a little more distance between us and those…men.”

  “Men…” Tersh gave a laugh. “They seemed more like ghosts.”

  “Why did you take it?”

  “Hm?”

  “You said something about appeasing your gods.”

  “Ah, well, you said it yourself. I need to do more than whisper if we want to end this civil war. I end the war, I appease the gods. Simple.”

  Tuthalya laughed. “Oh yes, very simple. But what will the skull do?”

  “Nothing, but if it is cursed—”

  “Or a god,” Tuthalya smiled.

  “Or that,” Tersh rolled her eyes. “Those cursed by t
he gods are cursed forever. This skull is cursed, and so with it I may be able to give that curse to someone else.”

  “The queens, you mean?”

  Tersh frowned. She didn’t particularly like the thought of possibly killing someone like that, even to end a war. In battle, there is no choice, but she had never met the queens. For all she knew, this stranger would make a better ruler than those fools they called kings in Hattute. But Tuthalya was right; it was a cruel reality that so long as a woman tried to rule in this land, there would be strife as men tried to steal control.

  “A queen, or whomever I may need to curse.”

  “Hmm,” Tuthalya’s mood seemed to darken suddenly. “You probably should have grabbed more skulls.”

  XALTO

  TRUST THE ANTEAN’S WING TO SPREAD THE NEWS

  The ship slowed to a stop, and the men jumped into the murky water, wading knee-deep to the shore. Sha’di didn’t like going into the river if he didn’t have to. It wasn’t just the memory of the giant snake; he had seen many strange creatures appear from the depths as they had continued down the river—and even more when they had reached the open sea and followed the coast north. They were inland once more, on a northern river, but he didn’t trust the water anymore.

  He was the only one who showed hesitation. It seemed like the people he travelled with didn’t hold onto the same fears a man from the desert did. Or maybe the people of the Grey Mist had long ago accepted that death was sudden, and there was no use fearing it.

  “I think we’ll be there tomorrow,” Tenok nodded as he trudged through the mud and reeds. Tenok had never looked like much of a huitl to Sha’di, at least when compared to the chubby, ornamented men he’d come to know ruled in the Grey Mist, but now Tenok looked just as grungy and dirty as any of them—with the stark exception of Xupama, who somehow managed to keep his tunics passably clean, though the plumage on his headdress had become frayed and bent beyond recovery during their voyage on the open sea.