Enemy Known

by Butler, J. M.

  She closed her eyes and focused on that memory, recalling the stone aerie in the uppermost level. It was similar to a bell tower with seven walls and arms spreading out with massive branch and reed-filled nests. If those were tracker eagles, they had a phenomenal sense of smell, superior even to the black, bearded, and griffon vultures as well as the condor. The cloth in the bottom of her bag was from Kepsalon. If the eagles took the message to Kepsalon, he would get it to the right people.

  This would work. It had to.

  Amelia tucked the blanket over the pillows to hide her absence, rolled the parchment up, and slipped out of the living chambers.

  The temple was as silent as the palace had been on the night Naatos and his brothers attacked. Amelia padded barefoot down the staircase and toward the entrance. Already this place was familiar. With the parchment, quill, and ink in hand, she hurried about, doublechecking key elements to ensure she had brought WroOth's memories through accurately. Most of it was the same, enough to make her confident. But her own examination revealed additional details.

  The primary entrance was fortified the most and had the thickest walls, but once inside, the walls thinned and the passages widened even more. The ceilings themselves were quite high, and the gaps in the stone would make it easy for the brothers to use animals to attack or transform into fearsome creatures themselves. She made particular notes on the passages leading up to the Chamber of the Tue-Rah and the Hall of Creation. While the first level did have windows, the windows were no lower than twenty feet off the ground, and most were narrow. They only widened at the higher levels.

  As she suspected, the Talbokians' living quarters and bedchambers were on the lowest and sub levels on the outer portions of the temple.

  Amelia made her way up the staircases until she reached the final level. It was eight flights up. The final staircase opened up into a small chamber with an open door. There was no handrail or balcony around the staircase, but the staircase exited at a polished chestnut-brown platform with three steps leading down. The chamber she was in resembled a vestry with seven unevenly spaced walls. Arched windows were cut into each wall except the fourth, providing free flowing ventilation and plenty of light. A familiar musty and ammonia-like scent struck Amelia's nostrils, similar to an old chicken coop. The fourth wall had a doorway that was the same shape as the windows except that it was open all the way to the ground.

  The stones were swept clean and sealed. They felt cool beneath Amelia's feet. She really needed to get slippers or shoes. Something. As she stepped forward, Amelia listened. Cooing and chirruping came from outside the chamber. A large black-winged eagle flew by the window, the sunlight catching on its beautiful feathers. Amelia slid to the doorway and peered out.

  The chamber she was in sat in the middle of a large rimless platform. Narrow pathways jutted out from it, no broader than two feet across at the widest point. At the end of each pathway, it spread once more into a woven scoop. The eagles had built their nests within these scoops. There were at least fifteen surrounding the chamber. Many of the nests held older eaglets as well as adult eagles. Amelia hesitated, uncertain whether they would attack her. These seemed to be the same breed that the Libyshans used for messages. If so, they weren't horrifically aggressive, but they were easy to annoy.

  The eagles hardly seemed to notice her. Several preened their thick feathers while others landed on the branches. A couple nipped at one another, squabbling at some leftover tidbit of rabbit. The smallest eagle was easily larger than a bald eagle. Their long curved talons were like jet knives, and their beaks gleamed, hooked to sharp points. Still this was probably the best chance she had of getting a message out.

  She rolled the parchment up, tore off a bit of her dress, and tied it. Taking a deep breath, she eyed the eagles, looking for the most likely choice. The eaglets in the nests were well-feathered and healthy. None could be any younger than four months, so the parents' protective instincts might be a little less. Still, Amelia preferred choosing an eagle without little ones. She walked slowly around the chamber, looking at each one in turn.

  The eagles continued to examine her as well. One flew onto the roof's overhand and leaned down, cocking its head as it peered at her. Its head was bigger than both her fists combined.

  "Hello," Amelia said.

  The eagle bobbed its head. It then fluttered to one of the large nests. It continued to bob its head. The others on the branch looked at her, their round heads turned to the side as they watched her with sharp black eyes.

  Amelia held the scroll with both hands. She had handled falcons a few times as well as red-tailed hawks and a couple ospreys. These eagles were massive in comparison, and even a much smaller bird could do serious damage with its claws. But she had not had nearly as much experience with raptors as she would have preferred, particularly given this situation.

  One of the eagles sat in an empty nest. Its feathers didn't have the same sheen as the others, though the color was still as strong. It might have been older, but more importantly, it did not have any young. Animals on Reltux were different from similar breeds on Earth, but Amelia doubted that familial protectiveness would be diminished.

  She slipped forward then, forcing her thoughts to be soothing. Perhaps it would reach the eagle. Holding out her hand, she moved forward. "I don't know if this is going to work," she said. Talking likely made no difference, but it soothed her. "But if you can help me, I'd appreciate it."

  The eagle bobbed its head to the side, twisting around to look at her. Turning, it ruffled its feathers and then smoothed them back down.

  "I need you to carry a message for me." Amelia held out the parchment. The eagle nipped the edge and then shook its head.

  Coming a little closer, Amelia held out her hand, the cloth securely tucked in her sash. It was exceptionally dangerous to touch a wild bird of any kind, particularly in the raptor family. This one could take her hand off if it chose, and it did not seem as friendly as the silver puma.

  She moved with care and knelt, allowing the bird to remain at the highest point. Though the eagle moved its head to watch her every movement, it did not appear threatened or shriek at her. Amelia then placed her hand on its wing. "It's all right," she said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

  The eagle's feathers were stiff and slick. Its muscles tensed for a moment, but it did not pull back.

  Amelia removed the cloth from her sash. "You're going to take the message to Kepsalon." Holding the cloth in front of its hooked beak, she let the eagle smell it.

  The eagle cocked its head, then dipped and pecked at the cloth.

  Amelia wrapped the parchment in the cloth and held it out. The eagle bobbed its head again and then seized the parchment and cloth. As Amelia stepped back, the eagle spread its wings and lunged off the platform. Catching the undercurrent of the wind, it thrust itself up farther into the air and soared.

  Amelia watched the eagle fly away. Its broad wings caught the sunlight, and it soared up and toward the sunrise. Amelia hugged herself against the cool of the morning and sighed. "I hope it's enough," she whispered.

  It was a long shot, but perhaps it would work. If Shon had still had her section of the Neyeb necklace, this would have been moot. Of course, Naatos wouldn't have allowed that most likely. He made everything more complicated.

  Amelia watched until the eagle disappeared. It was out of her control now. Hopefully this would work.

  Down below, fresh dew glistened on the grass. The morning songs were gentle and soothing. The eagles around her continued to preen, preparing for the day. If this was any indicator, the day might be good. She turned to head back into the vestry but paused when she heard a familiar whoosh. Dragon wings?

  Turning, Amelia looked out toward the forest to the west. A large rust-brown dragon with spikes along its back and tail rose up. It carried a large deer in its hind claws. For a moment, Amelia wondered if it was WroOth. Perhaps he had awoken and gone out for a flight. But no…somehow she knew. That wasn't
WroOth, and whoever it was, it was headed straight for her.

  44

  Another Brother

  The dragon hurtled toward her, not at all impeded by the deer carcass in its claws. Amelia's eyes widened. Was this a wild dragon?

  She bolted toward the staircase, jumping over a nest. She almost lost her balance on a large branch across the narrow walkway and leaped onto the main platform. All the eagles scattered, flying to the other side of the mountain.

  The dragon roared, rushing overhead. Amelia ducked, covering her head. There was nowhere to hide. The dragon spun up into the sky, twisting over backwards. Its tail snagged part of a nest. Fragments crashed over the edge.

  Dodging to the side, Amelia snatched up one of the larger branches. She swung it at the dragon, but it was already on her. Before she could jump or roll, the dragon slammed her into the ground and pounced on her. But just as the dragon tackled her, it transformed into a man.

  "You must be Amelia." The man grinned. "At least I hope you are. Otherwise, this will be difficult to explain." He tapped the elmis on her forehead. "But I'm fairly certain you are."

  "QueQoa." Amelia gasped. She struggled to catch her breath.

  "You know me?" QueQoa's grin broadened. "Excellent. Then this is not strange at all." He jumped up, cracked his neck, and walked to the center of the platform where the deer had fallen. "It has been years since I have seen this place. The only thing that has changed is that there are more eagles."

  "There were until you scared them off." Amelia rubbed her shoulder as she stood. Her back hurt. QueQoa was much bigger than she expected, and his voice boomed in her ears.

  "They'll come back. They always do." QueQoa picked up the deer by the hind legs. "Eagles are territorial. They'll be angry when they do come back, so you probably shouldn't be up here. We've got a bit though."

  The deer looked like it weighed more than two hundred fifty pounds. But QueQoa dragged it back as if it was nothing but a pile of fur. He wore a plain cobalt sleeveless doublet with a wide hunter's sash about his middle, a large pack on his back, and several hunting knives strapped on his belt and chest. His medium-length brown hair had leaves stuck in the back. "Do you know how to dress a deer, Amelia?"

  "I do. Maybe we shouldn't do that up here though. Particularly with the tracker eagles coming back." Amelia edged closer to the staircase. If she hadn't known he was so close to Naatos, AaQar, and WroOth, she might have trusted him. Something about him made her want to trust him. Still she needed to find a graceful way to leave while keeping QueQoa from saying he met her up there. "It's nice to meet you though. They told me you were coming."

  "Good, good." QueQoa sized her up. "You know, you are much smaller than I thought you'd be. You're not even as big as a gulgarel."

  "It's a huge problem in the relationship." Amelia folded her arms. "You should mention that to Naatos."

  QueQoa chuckled. "That's funny. You're also pretty fast. For a moment, I thought you were going to make it to the staircase."

  "That was the hope." Maybe she could get him to help her.

  "No one has ever made it to the staircase." QueQoa hefted the deer up to get a better grip. "Is everyone else awake?"

  "They're all asleep. Why don't we—"

  "Let's give them a wake up they'll remember." QueQoa grabbed her with one arm, flung her over his shoulder, and started down the staircase.

  "Hey!" Amelia shouted. "Stop it. I am capable of walking."

  "Watch your head." QueQoa started down the staircase.

  "QueQoa, listen to me. You need to put me down. This is unnecessary. I was going to go back anyway. Why don't you put me down?"

  QueQoa laughed.

  "QueQoa, now. Stop it." Amelia pressed herself up from his back and smacked him across the back of his head.

  "They will be surprised," QueQoa said. The deer thudded down the stairs after them. "Hush now, woman. Let's not wake them yet."

  Amelia grabbed a handful of his long brown hair. "I said stop." She dug her fingernails into his back.

  "Well, you are a fiery one, aren't you?" QueQoa glanced back at her. "But don't try clawing me. I don't have any feeling left in my back. Few too many run-ins with besreds and cabizas. Not to mention a camel."

  Amelia continued to struggle, but it made no difference. His arm remained clamped over her thighs. She held herself up, her hands pressed against his muscled back. As they neared the chambers, she started to panic. How would she explain to Naatos, WroOth, and AaQar what she had been doing? They would guess something was up. Even if Naatos hadn't told her not to leave, it was implied.

  "QueQoa," she said, lifting her head again. "I've got to go in there first. Naatos is going to miss me, and I don't want him to worry."

  "He won't." QueQoa grinned and then shushed her, stopping in front of the door. "Now be quiet." Dropping the deer, he twisted the door knob and opened it slowly. The door barely scraped across the stone. Then, picking the deer up, he snuck inside.

  All was quiet. Aside from the pale sunlight streaming through the windows, nothing had changed. WroOth still sat on the couch, his head tilted back, snoring.

  QueQoa hefted the deer up and dropped it on WroOth's lap. "Good morning, brother! I've brought breakfast." His voice boomed through the family chambers.

  WroOth jerked upright and struck the deer off. "QueQoa." He rubbed his eyes and started to stand. "Is that Amelia?"

  "He won't put me down!" Amelia jerked on his hair again.

  "Yes. He doesn't do well with personal boundaries," WroOth said. He rubbed his forehead, blinking rapidly. "Try playing dead. He'll lose interest."

  "That's your response?" QueQoa chuckled. "You disappoint me, WroOth. You're still half-asleep."

  WroOth waved him back. "Just because you adore mornings doesn't make them good."

  "And just because you hate them doesn't make them bad." He spun around and headed back down the hall. Jerking open Naatos's door, he sprang inside, bounded onto Naatos's bed, and jumped up and down. "Wake up, brother! I found something I think you'll be wanting." The springs squeaked and creaked.

  Naatos thrashed under the blankets, sitting up. "QueQoa!" He did not sound nearly as pleased as WroOth.

  QueQoa jumped off the bed and walked alongside Naatos. "Look at what I found out on the eagle aerie. Thought you might like her back." He turned Amelia around and dropped her on Naatos's lap.

  Amelia crashed into Naatos's arms. She froze, realizing he was shirtless. "You're dressed, aren't you?"

  "No." Naatos wiped the sleep from his eyes, his hair wild and tangled.

  Amelia scrambled off and ran out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  "Greet the morning, WroOth! You can't hide from it forever." QueQoa rapped on the wall and started back down the hall toward AaQar's room. He paused when he saw Amelia. "What are you doing out here again?"

  "Oh…Naatos is not dressed." Amelia cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing.

  "That's a problem?" QueQoa tilted his head, his expression quizzical.

  "Neyeb tradition. We don't expose our bodies. Ever." Amelia tucked her hair back behind her ear. "Never ever."

  "Ahhh," QueQoa said with a nod. "Now I understand why Vawtrians don't generally marry Neyeb." He thrust his shoulder against AaQar's door. "Good morning, AaQar!" He stopped short as the door refused to budge.

  The lock turned, and the door opened. AaQar stepped out, giving QueQoa a somber look. "I knew you were coming."

  "So you locked your door? You wound me." QueQoa pressed his hand to his chest, giving AaQar a mock pained expression.

  "After what happened the last time, it seemed wise." AaQar adjusted his pale-green robes and gave QueQoa a half-smile. "But it is good to see you again. WroOth, back into your state of rest. There will be no kuvaste before breakfast."

  WroOth dropped down from the ceiling in his slender jet-storm dragon form. But before he could shift back into his state of rest, QueQoa shifted into his copper dragon form with the six legs a
nd pounced. The two snarled and attacked, battling on the walls and in the common room.

  AaQar rolled his eyes, cinching his robe tighter. "Over nine hundred years and still no more mature," he muttered.

  Naatos opened the door to his room and stepped out, wearing his black hunting garb. He came to stand beside Amelia, putting his hand on her waist. She stepped back, giving him a nervous glance. "You said you do not sleep in night garb," Naatos said tersely. "Why are you so shocked I don't either?"

  The puma ran out of the common room, his hackles lifted. He bolted into the dining room. Crashes sounded, and then laughter.

  Amelia tucked her hair back behind her ear. "I meant that I sleep in my regular day clothes. I don't sleep naked!"

  "Of course not. That would have been appealing. Why are you acting so disturbed?" Naatos demanded. "I am not unpleasant to look at. I am well-formed."

  "I'm having a hard time seeing you as a lover, all right?" Amelia hissed back. "I don't see your muscles and think 'oooh, I just want to snuggle. I bet those arms would feel good around me.' I think 'those arms could snap my ribs; I need to stay out of his reach.'"

  "My arms would feel good around you," Naatos said. "You would know that if you came in reach more often. You certainly enjoyed it yesterday."

  "I'm sure in your mind I'll enjoy everything you have to offer," Amelia said sharply.

  "Yes." Naatos's tone became sterner. "You will, but you cannot enjoy what you have not experienced. This requires give and take. I will gladly give, but I have not received even one embrace this morning."

  QueQoa grabbed Naatos in a bear hug from behind. "That's easily changed."

  "QueQoa." Naatos closed his eyes. He pushed QueQoa's arms away and stepped forward. "I was not talking to you. Please assume that if I am talking about desiring physical affection, I want it from my wife, not you."

  "Oh please," WroOth said, following him out. "The only way you'll get it from Amelia is if you beg."