Heart of Shadra

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Heart of Shadra Page 9

by Susan Faw


  He opened the door to his chambers and crossed the room to where the woman lay curled up on a mat in front of the double doors leading to his private balcony. She stirred at his approach. Dark of skin, she was a striking woman with a strong, straight nose and white teeth that gleamed in the low lighting. Curly brown hair framed a heart-shaped face. Aisha squinted at him through one baleful eye. It was shot through with red streaks. She closed the eye and turned away.

  “What do you want, Madrid? I will not serve you. I have given all I intend to give.”

  Madrid knelt down beside the Shadrian queen and placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched with the contact. “You are not cooperating, Aisha. I ride to Shadra, and I wish for you to ride with me to see the plight of your people and why I fight to free them. Do you not care that they suffer?”

  “They suffer by your hands, Madrid. No other. It is you that brings misery to my people. If you cared about the Shadrian, you would free me and allow me to return to my people, unhindered and unchained.”

  “I cannot do that, Aisha. We are stronger together, and great evil stirs on the coast that will test us. I will need to draw on your gifts to prevail. But do not worry. I will not let any harm come to you. You are far too precious to me.”

  Aisha glared at the emperor then spat at his feet. “I will not.”

  Madrid’s expression hardened. He itched to let his hand fly but rejected the urge to strike her. “This is not a request. Get dressed, or you will ride to the cliffs naked. The choice is yours.” He stood up and walked to the door. “You have five revolutions. If you have not joined me by then, I will send in Commander Cayos to bring you bodily to me. Five revolutions.” The door slammed behind him as he left.

  ***

  Aisha lay on her pallet, considering what to do. A revolution passed and then she got to her feet and slipped her head and arms into a beaded deer hide. The tunic fell to her thighs. Leggings followed, and finally she slipped her feet into her moccasins. She ignored the mirror on the wall as she headed for the door. Commander Cayos waited on the other side and fell into step beside her as she left the room.

  Precisely on the count of five, she appeared in the archway, taking in the great dragon and the emperor who sat astride its broad back. Head held high, she approached the pair, every inch of her body announcing the presence of the tribal queen of Shadra. She treated Commander Cayos as a bodyguard, ignoring his presence. Madrid reached down and held out his hand as she approached.

  Reluctantly, she placed her hand in his. She did not remember her one and only ride on the dragon, as she had been unconscious at the time. Fear lit her eyes for a second as she felt his tug on her hand. Madrid pulled her up onto Opaleye, seating her in front of him.

  He is afraid I will jump off while in the air, she thought. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. He is bending to my will, if only in this small thing. She smiled, the first real smile she had shown in weeks. She gripped the curved edge of the saddle in front of her in an iron grip.

  Opaleye ran for the edge of the platform then launched himself over the edge, spiraling down the side of the Citadel to gather speed then spread his wings. The onrushing air caught, and they swooped around the Citadel and across the chasm that led into the province of Shadra. Madrid raised his hands and lightning shot from his palms. It struck the barrier with the sound of a gong, and a hole opened up. It held just long enough for Opaleye to swoop through it. The sides smacked together as he cleared the opening. The concussion rolled away faster than Opaleye could fly. The wave of raw power crashed into them, tossing Opaleye like the seed head on a spent flower. Aisha screamed as he tumbled over a complete revolution before leveling out his flight.

  Aisha shuddered. She heard Madrid’s laughter in her ear.

  “Have no fear, Aisha. I will not allow you to escape me that easily. A small spiral from Opaleye is nothing to fear. Did you not feel how your body was pressed back into mine? It is the way of things that fly. The very air is theirs to command. It is part of their magic, and it obeys their command. I could stand on Opaleye’s back, and I would not fall.”

  “Dragons are wondrous creatures.” Aisha wriggled forward, shifting away from Madrid. She wished to put as much distance as possible between them. There was not much to be had, squeezed together in a saddle meant for one.

  I am the largest and fiercest of our kind. I rule the dragons.

  Aisha heard Opaleye’s words in her head. They pressed against her mind, forming the strange thoughts into words she could comprehend. It was like interpreting pictures with speech. The words did not cover the full concept that the dragon had tried to convey. The images were of the tallest mountain with Opaleye filling the space from ground to snow-capped peak while volcanoes erupted all around. Dragons circled the summit then landed at his feet, whimpering like lost puppies. It was the first time she had heard Opaleye voice his thoughts.

  She concentrated on the dragon and thought, You are a very beautiful dragon.

  Opaleye snorted. I am. There are none to match me. You will see how I command my kin.

  “Where are you taking me?” she said aloud, “I know we are heading to the sea, but what is your interest there? There are only two reasons anyone goes to the sea to visit the sacred caves. Our warriors pilgrimage there to test their strength and bravery. The caves are treacherous and filled with poisonous gases and narrow passages that can entrap the unwary. The other reason is to mine the salt of the earth. Traders have long gone to harvest the salt flats. The salt dries from the ocean in shallow pools and evaporates. What interest could you have in salt?”

  Madrid was silent. The silence stretched on so long that she thought he was not going to answer, but finally he did. “It is to the mines that we go, but not the mines that you have mentioned. In the caves, your sacred caves, there is something you must see.”

  “What is it?” Curiosity forced the words past her lips. She had not intended to show interest in their destination, yet she could not deny the heartsick swoop in her belly as her anxiety for her people’s fate, rose with her.

  “You will see.”

  They flew in silence for an hour or more. Keeping track of time was difficult, as Opaleye passed in and out of thick cloud cover as they flew. Once Aisha caught a glimpse of the peace tower, she knew that they were passing her home. Aisha turned her head away, unwilling to revisit the sad memories of her capture, but then her eye caught on something strange. An opaque column rose from the top of the rock from the central altar and up through the clouds. It was a dark and tempestuous swirling, navy and purple with flashes of yellow and orange. The spirits of the ancestors were angry. Normally the prayers were a calming blue or gold or a flush pink. Some of those were visible at the bottom of the vortex, but at the top, they vanished. A thin barrier twisted around them. It was not air, not water, but some other substance she couldn’t immediately identify. She leaned forward, watching the column until it disappeared in the distance. She frowned. She had never seen the prayers of her people act in such a way, nor had she seen such a fierce reaction from the ancestors.

  “Can we fly higher?” she asked. “I’d like to see what is above the clouds.” Opaleye gave a mighty flap of her wings and climbed up through the moist, pillowed tops. He broke free of the cloud, only to roar with pain when a bolt of lightning electrified the air where they had exited the cloud. A large anvil of a thunderstorm swirled nearby, its base centered over the column of prayers. But it was not a thunderhead of air or water. It was made up entirely of spirit. The spirits of the ancestors beat against the sides of the cloud. Aisha could hear them calling to her. A wailing swirl of voices swept over them, their message disjointed and unintelligible.

  “Stop! We must help them! They are trapped!” Aisha grabbed for Opaleye’s reins, but her hands were gripped powerfully by Madrid.

  “Return to the level below the clouds. Now!” shouted Madrid. Opaleye dove back into the clouds leaving the cries of Aisha’s ancestors behind.


  “No! I must help them. They are trapped. Please I must return to my ancestors. It is my calling!” She struggled in his grip, coming to life for the first time since the bonding. A hand slipped free of his grasp and she twisted, swinging at Madrid. Her hand connected with a flat slap on his exposed cheek. Even with the speed of the dragon’s flight, the sound was loud. Madrid snarled and twisted her wrist around behind her back, making her cry out with pain. He gave it a vicious twist and Aisha screamed as she heard the shoulder pop out of its socket. Her scream this time was a drawn out wail of agony.

  Madrid bent his head to her ear and snarled “If you ever strike me again, I will rip that arm off of your body. Now shut up before I change my mind.”

  Aisha sobbed and bent over the curve of the saddle, hanging on with only her knees. Every stroke of Opaleye’s wings was pure agony. She dragged her injured arm and laid it across her lap, trying to cushion it from the swaying movement of flight. Bile rose in her throat. She thought she might be sick with the pain and the motion. Tears streamed down her cheeks. They were not all for her injury. She focused her mind on what she had seen, trying to make sense of the images. The distraction helped her to ignore the jolting pain, or at least control it somewhat.

  The ancestors were angry and scared. There was no way that the cloud was a natural phenomenon. She had spent over half her lifetime as the tribal queen. In all those years, she had never seen such a thing. Aisha could only draw one conclusion. Her people were being attacked, and it wasn’t by another province. It was by magic.

  Chapter 15

  The Secret in the Bones

  SHIKOBA PACED BACK AND FORTH in front of the fireplace, a deep scowl furrowing her brow. In her hand, she clutched the fire stick she had used to light the logs in the hearth, just for something to do. It snapped in two when her grip tightened on the thin wood. Sarcee sat on her shoulder in crow form, furiously flapping his wings to try and cool her anger.

  A pair of wide French doors had been flung open in the circular room to allow space for Obsidian to join the conversation. Her snout rested on her claws just inside the opening. She snapped at a raven that dived at the back of her head, drawing a frown from the crow perched on Shikoba’s shoulder.

  Across the room, the stranger lounged in an overstuffed chair, one leg draped over the arm. His tooled boot jiggled with impatience as he yawned, feigning boredom. Chutzpa’s presence was at the request of the Shamankas, who sat on the couch before a low table. The contents of Shikoba’s package were spread across the scratched wooden surface. Shikoba had at first refused to share the contents with the foreigner in the room, but the Shamankas pointed out that Chutzpa, despite being from Tunise, had at least scouted out the area they were proposing to visit.

  “Now, if you have finished arguing with me, I would like to discuss your gifts.” Marsai shifted forward and picked up the fat knuckle bones and the thin fluted one and laid them out on the tabletop. When she had finished sorting them, a pattern had developed. Three fingers of bone, about a foot long, were arranged on the scratched surface. Shikoba moved closer to get a better look at the partial reconstruction.

  “What is it? A bird’s foot?” She tried to imagine a bird with toes that big and couldn’t think of any native to Shadra.

  Chutzpa shook his head. “That’s no bird. There are too many joints.”

  “It’s not a bear or a tiger. There aren’t enough toes,” said Shikoba.

  “It is a sea drake,” said Marsai.

  “A drake? But I thought they were just a legend. How would you know this?” Shikoba frowned down at the bones. A frisson of fear slid up her spine at the thought of sea drakes being real. And alive. Sea drakes were thought to be distant cousins to their fiery kin.

  “When I was young,” said Marsai, “my mother took us to the cliffs on the coast to pick rare fungi that grew only on the southern shelves of the deepest caves. Imbued with magic, these mushrooms never saw the light of day and had to be picked by the soft rays of a full moon or they would shrivel to dust. One midnight, we wandered deeper than a human had ever travelled into the caves. At least, I don’t believe anyone has gone so deep.” Her eyes glossed over at the memory. “I was scared to death, crawling through the narrow tunnels, pushing a torch ahead of me, trying to keep my mother’s moccasins in sight. I am sure that we crawled underneath the sea itself, we had gone so far.

  “It was in the very last cave, with our baskets full to overflowing, that we spied it. We were latching the lids of our baskets. A gust of air sent the torch flame dancing, reflecting off the lacquered woven tops. The light flashed across the corpse of a creature that lay tucked back under a narrow shelf.

  “It was long, twenty paces at least, and perfectly preserved. Smooth golden flesh covered the bones. It had a head the size of me and a long, sinuous body. Pairs of fins the size of oval platters were spaced along its snake-like length. The tail was barbed and thick enough to impale the largest sabretooth. Due to the cool temperatures of the cave it had not decayed, as it would have on the surface. It was not long dead.”

  “What was it doing there?” asked Shikoba. “How did it get there?”

  “The main caves are accessible only from the land side, but I have come across sea water in the lower caves. I think there must be openings below the water level.” Marsai picked up a knuckle bone and held it up for them to see. All eyes were drawn to the object. “This is the smallest bone of the smallest fin. They are located next to the tail. By the size of this bone, this must have come from a mature naga.”

  Jinnaga is their proper name, thought Obsidian. I guess the people of your land have forgotten this.

  Sarcee spoke aloud. “Jinnaga, sea drake, naga. They are all the same creature, just called by different names in different worlds.”

  Shikoba scowled over at Obsidian and Sarcee, then snatched the bone from Marsai’s hand to look at it closer. “I don’t get it. How is this supposed to help me bring down the barrier? This was given to me to be an aid in fulfilling my quest. Bah! It is useless, just as I thought.” She tossed it back on the table and stormed over to the window beside Obsidian’s head. “Useless drivel.”

  A deep laugh filled the room. Shikoba spun on her heel and pulled a short knife hidden inside her tunic. In three strides, she was nose to nose with Chutzpa. Sarcee squawked and flew round the room.

  “You dare to mock me, Tunisian? You think this is funny? I have a mission to complete or we all die.” She pressed the knife against his throat. A thin line of blood welled along its length. “It would be no loss to start with you,” she hissed.

  Chutzpa placed his hand on her wrist and gently pushed her knife-wielding hand away. The smile did not leave his face. He grinned down into her stormy hazel eyes. “Hey now, relax. We are on the same side.”

  Shikoba pushed back, hard. “How do I know you are not an assassin sent to kill me? You have a pretty story, but I do not believe it. You will not mock me, or I will kill you.”

  “No mockery intended. I was merely laughing at our predicament. You are chasing ghosts. Monsters of legend with no clue as to how it is supposed to help you. I am chasing kidnappers who are hiding out with your ghosts. I was laughing at myself, actually, wondering if I was insane to cast my lot with yours.” His eyes swept the room. “You all could get me killed.”

  Shikoba glared at him. “We didn’t shoot you with the arrow. We saved your life.” Her knife hand lowered.

  “And that was a friendly hug?” He gestured toward her knife. He touched a finger to the welling blood from the nick in his skin. The smile never left his lips.

  “Watch your back, Tunisian pig.”

  Chutzpa shrugged then turned his attention to Marsai, offering her a low bow. “Forgive me, Shamankas, for interrupting your explanation.”

  Marsai nodded, then her head turned to Shikoba. Wiped of all emotion, her expression was stone. She raised one eyebrow, demanding submission.

  Shikoba glanced at the elder, scowled, and dropped her eyes
. “Sorry,” she muttered through clenched teeth. Marsai gestured to Shikoba to sit with an imperious wave of her wrinkled hand. Shikoba sank down to the floor beside Obsidian.

  “I will not suffer another outburst like that, Shikoba. You need to learn to discern threat from candor. Not all who walk this earth are the enemy. And that heart does not mean you are the only one with magic. You were chosen to serve your people. To death, if that be your fate. You were chosen to preserve the ways of magic. You will need allies along the way. Do not shun those who may be of aid in your quest, regardless of where they were born. Remember, when the barriers come down, there will be nothing to stop the interaction between the provinces. Working with this man,” she pointed to Chutzpa, “may give you insights and wisdom you could gain no other way.”

  “I must trust a total stranger?” Shikoba burst out, unable to hold her tongue.

  “Trust is earned. You must work together. If he proves to be trustworthy, then—and only then—you may grant your trust. Just remember, you are earning his trust, too. It’s called wisdom, Shikoba.”

  Shikoba sat down beside Obsidian, patting her nose. Her eyes passed over Chutzpa, then her face twisted into a grimace. “Truce, Chutzpa?” she said with reluctance.

  “I was never fighting you, Shikoba. Truce struck.” Chutzpa stuck out his hand. Shikoba ignored it.

  Marsai sighed, then reached over and picked up the crow’s beak. She turned it over in her hands examining it closely. She put it on her crown of grey curls, tugging the front down so that she saw through the bony eye slits. She sent a tendril of water magic into the mask. Nothing happened. She pulled it off, frowning.

  “This is a ceremonial mask, worn by an elder during the solstice celebrations at the peace tower. It is painted with the elements of water, fire, and spirit, and is meant to invoke those elements of the ancestors to protect our borders. Only one with command of all three elements can activate it. I command water only. I cannot make it work.” She reached out her arm, gesturing for Shikoba to take it from her. “Here, child, you try.”

 

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