Heart of Shadra

by Susan Faw

  Marsai took a square of the bark and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly. Her face scrunched up at the taste, but she continued chewing. A soft, silken sensation spread out from her jaw, easing the stiffness of her wounds, the after effects of a battle fought, but not won.

  “That is miraculous. Thank you. We need to speak about this tree called willow but not now.” She took in their surroundings. Dead leaves carpeted the frozen ground at the foot of some bare trees. Patches of snow hugged the northern shadows of the trunks. She shivered with the cold. They had left the swamp behind. “We are in quite the pickle. What will you do now?”

  Chutzpa, his arm resting on his thigh, gazed in the direction of the sea. “I intend to do as I started out to do. I intend to rescue my brother. Shikoba could be anywhere, and we have no idea where to find her. I would aid her if I could, but I don’t know where to start.” Chutzpa straightened to a standing position, then offered his hand to help Marsai to her feet. “You are welcome to come with me, if you wish. I am heading for the coast, but I would be appreciative of your company and knowledge of Shadra and its people. Maybe we will find a clue along the way, a whisper or a rumour of Shikoba’s whereabouts. Or maybe Obsidian will find us. If not, I can drop you off at a village we pass. You will have aid with your people.”

  Marsai murmured a thank you for his assistance and stood, swaying on her feet. She spat the bark out, then said, “As I have no horse, I gratefully accept your offer to ride with you. These old bones don’t weigh much.” She hobbled over to Fire Dancer and accepted further help in gaining the saddle. Chutzpa put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up into the back of the saddle. He reached down and grabbed Marsai’s arm and hoisted her up behind him. As she swung her leg over the back of the horse, her foot brushed against a long pole strapped under a fold of leather on the left side.

  “You found Shikoba’s spear?”

  “Yes. Sheer good fortune.” Chutzpa gathered up the reins while Marsai settled her arms around his waist to balance herself, as he urged Fire Dancer into a walk. “I was leading us away from the clearing when I saw this shimmering blue haze under some ferns. I guess when she was attacked, it flew into the patch growing along the roadside. If the magic of the spear had been extinguished, I would not have seen it.” He glanced down at the rod. “The glow has faded now.”

  “That would be because Shikoba has passed beyond the distance that the wielder can maintain the bond. It gives us a clue as to where she might be.”

  “The magic has a range?” he asked.

  “Oh yes. While physical contact isn’t required, the magic has its limits. And as it is bound to all three of them through the triad merger, all three must be out of range. I think it is safe to say that Obsidian and Sarcee have gone after Shikoba. Once all three passed out of range, the spear’s magic will be silenced.”

  He rode in silence for a while, thinking over her words. Then another question occurred to him. “So this bond always exists with the spear?”

  “Yes, it is her weapon to bear,” said Marsai.

  “Then it will reactivate when we come within range of any of the triad?”

  “Yes…I believe it will. Well done, Chutzpa. I think we have discovered a way to know if we are close to rejoining our friends.” Satisfaction oozed from Marsai’s voice. “I think I can tweak the spear to glow with higher intensity the closer we get. We will be able to use it as a compass of sorts.”

  Marsai closed her eyes and mouthed a spell, running her hands along the shaft to the tip. She gripped the metal point for a moment. It flared with light, illuminating the bones of her fingers through her flesh. The light faded, and Marsai took her hands away. The very tip glowed with a blue flame.

  “Watch this,” she said, moving the staff slowly in a circle as she revolved on the spot. The small flame stayed at the same glowing intensity until it was pointed in the direction of the coast. When it was pointed down the road it flared higher and danced with excitement.

  “Excellent!” Chutzpa touched his heels to Fire Dancer’s sides, urging him to follow the road. Fire Dancer sprang ahead, seeming to not notice that he carried two riders on his back. The quickened pace made conversation difficult, so they rode in silence. Several times, Fire Dancer alerted them to activity on the road ahead, pricking his ears forward with interest. They moved off the road to avoid encountering any more people, moving into the trees and keeping a solid screen of shrubbery between them and the travelers of the road.

  The third time they hid in the woods, a column of men, riding side by side and bristling with weapons, passed by. Peering around the thick trunk of an Ironwood tree, Chutzpa counted a dozen horsemen in the company.

  When they had disappeared from view, he whispered, “Those men are from the mines. I recognize their uniforms.”

  Marsai’s eyes followed the retreating backs. “Some are Shadrian, and some are Tunisian. I recognize one of them. He is a young man from Shikoba’s village.” She sat on Fire Dancer’s back, sheltered behind a clump of smaller Ironwood trees. Chutzpa frowned and then rejoined them. He motioned to Marsai and urged Fire Dancer back onto the road. The horse sped up as Chutzpa was anxious to put as much distance as they could between the men and themselves before having to stop for the night. He did not trust them to remain on course. His head tilted as his eyes swept the skies, searching for the silhouette of a dragon. One he wanted to see, the other he did not. He frowned as a memory resurfaced.

  “Shamankas, did you see the woman on the back of the dragon with Madrid?”

  “Yes,” Marsai said in a flat tone.

  “Do you know who she is?”

  “Yes,” Marsai whispered.

  “You do? Who is she?”

  Marsai closed her eyes at the memory. “She is the tribal queen of Shikoba’s home village of Saami. She is Shikoba’s mother.”

  “Shikoba’s mother?” Anger surged red hot, bringing a flush to Chutzpa’s cheeks. “That lousy, filthy toad of an emperor. I should have run him through when I had the chance.”

  “Had you tried, you would have died. We all would have died. You had no chance,” said Marsai, the words on her tongue sharp. “What is behind is done. We know her plight. Perhaps we will find a way to free her in time.”

  Chutzpa growled with irritation, “She is the one that warned me that help was coming. She is the reason the two of us are alive right now. We owe her our lives.” Frustration burned in his stomach. “I wonder if she recognized Shikoba? She must have seen her taken by the emperor. We must find Shikoba.”

  Marsai patted his arm. “We will find her. But first I need to rest. I cannot take much more travel this day. Up ahead, you will see a path leading off the road by a lightning-struck Ironwood tree. Take that path. It leads to an abandoned long house that I have used for shelter on occasions.”

  Chutzpa spied the turnout and guided Fire Dancer onto the trail. It was little more than a deer trail and curved away from the road and down into a steep-sided valley. The footing was treacherous, narrowing in places as it slowly meandered to the base. Snow clung to the northern shadows and the temperature dropped as they lost the sun behind the cliff face. An eagle cried as it launched into the air, disturbed by their presence. Chutzpa checked the sky again, in case the cry had been a warning of a predator larger than the eagle. Nothing else moved in the late afternoon sky.

  The long house was tucked up tight against the hillside with a back wall made of stone. It clung to the mossy rocks on which it had been built. Windows broke the long logs in irregular intervals, placed where the log ended rather than cutting them to fit. No smoke rose from where he knew the chimney hole would be located. They were alone.

  Chutzpa slid from the saddle and helped Marsai down before picketing Fire Dancer to graze near the small fall of spring runoff. It would soon solidify with the falling temperatures. Chutzpa gathered his saddle bags and followed Marsai into the shelter. He glanced one last time at the sky before ducking through the doorway. A pangolin hide
covered the entrance.

  Tomorrow would be soon enough to continue the trail. Besides, he needed to gather the supplies he needed to make it into the valley and had not thought to ask for them from the Shamankas. A quick search of the shelter produced the supplies he had originally gone in search of before being attacked by the guards from the mines. Tomorrow, they would reach the mines, and this time, he would be ready.

  Chapter 19

  The Emperor’s Prisoner

  PIERCING COLD WATER cascaded over Shikoba’s body, plunging her into a shivering bath that brought her eyes open as wide as an owl’s. She gasped, pushing herself upright as a second bucket of water was upended over her head.

  “Stop!” she screamed, struggling to breathe. The cold water took her breath away. She pushed her sodden ebony hair back from her face, swiping the rivulets of water from her forehead. Or she tried to. A large iron shackle attached each wrist to a heavy iron chain, the loops of which dragged down her wrists with their weight. She let her hands drop into her lap and attempted to make sense of the scene in front of her.

  The stone room was long and narrow with small windows high up in the wall set with iron bars. At one end were two bowls and a mat made of woven rushes. One bowl contained water, and the other was empty. But none of these things interested Shikoba. It was the black boots standing in front of her that drew her gaze. Slowly her eyes rose past tan trousers and a tunic of heavy leather, stamped with dragons and runes, past a cinched belt with a heavy brass buckle and up to strong forearms covered in tattoos. The right hand held another bucket of water at the ready.

  Heaving air into her lungs that had fled with first frigid bucketful of water, she gasped, “Stop, please!”

  Reluctantly, she looked up the rest of the way to peer at a dearly familiar face. Casper had grown, aged. Gone was the fleshy, lazy boy of their youth. In his place had grown a middle-aged man in his prime: tall, muscular, and lethal. Bronze hair curled to his shoulders, accentuating a straight nose and heavy brows. A square chin held compressed lips, thinned into a frown.

  “Get up, Shikoba. Your presence is commanded. You stink like a horse’s ass.”

  “Casper! You…have changed.” The words trailed away as he lifted a mocking eyebrow.

  His gaze swept over her, noting the fleeting changes and dismissing them. “Whereas, you are still the same bony wretch you were when we were kids. If there was ever any doubt that your allegiance is to the witches, it is gone now. Only a witch can slow their aging.”

  “What has happened to you?” Shikoba pleaded. “We were best friends. Don’t you remember?” Shikoba shivered and tried to wrap her arms around herself, only to come up short. The chains were fastened to a pair of leg shackles that she hadn’t noticed before.

  “Friends?” he snorted. “Is that what you call it? You abandoned your people, Shikoba. You abandoned your friends, your family, your tribe. You left them behind to suffer at the hands of strangers, invaders from other provinces. You abandoned us all.” His eyes raked over her, anger igniting the light of revenge in their dark depths. “You abandoned me.”

  “I did not abandon you! I honoured my calling. It’s your calling, too! Or have you forgotten? You are a heart bearer. You were to be trained as I was trained. We were chosen.”

  “I received my training from the emperor, Shikoba. He showed me the error of the witches’ teachings, of how they twist the truth and horde magic to themselves. My training has been so much more thorough than yours. You are still a child. I have had decades to hone my skills with magic. I know things you can’t begin to dream of. And now you will be taught to serve the emperor.”

  “I will not serve him. I have come to stop him!”

  Casper threw back his head and barked a laugh at the ceiling of the cell. “Really, Shikoba, you are amusing.” He set the bucket down and tossed a bundle to the ground beside her. It fell in a puddle soaking up the water. “Emperor Madrid demands your presence. You will not go to him stinking like a pig. The water is warm, or it was. You will bathe and dress, then I will take you to him.”

  “How am I supposed to bathe and dress with shackles on?”

  “Easy.” He pulled a long knife from his belt and grabbed the collar of her tunic. With a long ripping tear, he cut it from top to bottom. The sides flapped open. Shikoba shrieked and fell back away from him, which exposed even more flesh. Casper took his time admiring Shikoba’s form. She flopped over, turning her back to him to cover herself. Casper took it as an invitation to cut the rest of her clothing apart, and they fell as rags to the floor. “Now bathe and get dressed. If you are not finished in one minute, I will bathe you myself.” He leered at the curve of her back, following its course to her bottom.

  “Get out and I will! Get out!” she yelled.

  She heard Casper’s low snicker, then footsteps and the opening and closing of the door. She hazarded a glance over her shoulder. She was alone. Gingerly, she got to her feet and shook off the rest of her tattered robes, then knelt in front of the bucket. It was reasonably warm, certainly a lot warmer than the cold buckets that she had been emptied over her earlier. She dunked her head into the bucket and quickly splashed the cooling water over her body to wash the sweat and filth of her travels and capture away, then shivering, dressed quickly in the raiment provided by her captors. The garment slipped over her head and tied on the inside, wrapping around front and back. She fumbled with the cords, the chains getting in the way as she tried to pull strings.

  The door opened and closed. Shikoba spun around, ready to fling a new tirade at Casper, but it wasn’t him. Instead, a girl stood in front of her. She was vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t remember her name.

  “Hey, I know you.”

  The girl stepped further into the room, her features lit by a shaft of sunlight that blocked the floor. “Yes! You remember me! Deshi said you wouldn’t, but I told him that you would remember. I’m Tesha! Tesha of Saami.”

  “Tesha? The girl we met at the prayer tower?” At her earnest nod, Shikoba said, “What are you doing here? You must get away! This is not a safe place.”

  Tesha’s face fell. “We know. We are prisoners here, too.”

  “I’m sorry, Tesha. What are you doing here?”

  “I was sent to help you finish dressing. Casper is waiting outside. He said if we don’t hurry, he will come in and finish the job.” Tesha ran over to Shikoba and began pulling the ties through holes and wrapping them around her waist and arms. “Your boots are against the wall there.” She pointed to the windowless feature. “Hurry, put them on. The emperor punishes those who are late.”

  Shikoba slipped her cold feet into her comfortable moccasins. They immediately brought to mind her gifted set and her staff, both of which were missing. Her mind tried to wander to questions of where her companions were, but she forced her thoughts to focus on the situation at hand.

  Tesha was tugging her along toward the door. When she reached it she knocked and said, “We are ready.”

  The door swung open. A contingent of four guards waited for her. They entered the cell and unlocked the padlock that kept her chained to the wall, then each one clipped a chain onto her wrists, two on either side. They clipped the other end to a loop on a broad belt at their waists. Casper gestured to the long hallway. “Take her to the audience chamber. The emperor waits for her.”

  The guards saluted and then walked away down the hall. Shikoba had no choice but to follow. Her head turned to Tesha, but the girl had her hands on her knees, bowing to the wizard. Casper’s back was to Shikoba, and he gave Tesha instructions in a low voice. She straightened, catching Shikoba’s eyes for a minute, then walked away down the corridor in the opposite direction.

  Shikoba stumbled in the dark hallway.

  “Watch where you are going, wretch!” The lead guard on her right tugged at the chain, bringing her focus to him. He scowled, then picked up the pace.

  Shikoba still had no idea where she was, although she suspected. She doubted
she would get an answer from her guard if she were to ask. Fine white lines ran through the stone, illuminated by the flickering torches alternating down the hallway. In spots the white lines widened into crystalized chunks embedded in the stone.

  I bet that is salt, she thought, and these are the coastal mines.

  At the end of the corridor, the floor sloped upward, climbing at a gentle grade. Wide steps appeared which they climbed as a unit. As they reached the top, a pair of matching guards pushed open twin doors.

  A bright light shone in the airy space. Shikoba blinked, forcing her eyes to adjust to the glare of sunlight streaming through an atrium of clear glass. Her jaw dropped.

  Glass in Shadra?

  Her eyes swept the compound. Men and women in rust-coloured tunics and matching, flat-topped caps rushed through the atrium, carrying bowls and jars full of substances she could only guess at. The sleeves of the tunics were different colours. She did not know why, but when a steady stream of people with the same coloured sleeves entered and exited a door to the right, as they marched past, she understood that the colours denoted rank or possibly a special skill set. None of those doors were their destination, however. She attempted to fix a map in her head of the hub, counting the number of doors and the colours of the people who went in and out of them, like ants scurrying along a fixed path to the queen.

  But it was no queen she was going to visit. Her guard marched her over to a staircase that curved up the glass dome to a second level and then down this quieter hallway to a tall, polished door set with a golden handle in the shape of a dragon’s head. Her guard pulled her to a stop, then unfastened their chains from her wrists, leaving her main chain intact. The first guard knocked.