by John Marco
On the ridge below the peak of the mountain, a thousand years of wind and rain had carved catacombs into the rock. The ever-melting snow, dripping down from what seemed like the roof of the world, became gushing rivers in the rainy days of Spring, flooding the caves and turning ground loose and dangerous. Of all the countless, meandering catacombs, one stood out importantly from the rest, larger and grander than its ugly siblings, its mouth filled with tooth-like stalactites, its dark recesses thick with rolling mist. Just beyond its holy threshold, the world outside disappeared, devoured by the sounds of water and the hiss of rumbling vapour.
Lahkali entered the cavern knowing it was the one. There was no premonition in the decision. It was simply as Karoshin had described it – magnificent and unmistakable. As she crossed the ridge and stepped inside, she felt the warm breeze of unseen fires strike her face. The cavern glistened with green light, the incandescence of countless gemstones glowing in the rock. Along the ground rushed a torrent of water, higher than Lahkali’s ankles. Beneath it, her feet shuffled carefully across the gravelly floor. In both hands she held the katath out before her. The weapon trembled in her grip. She scanned the cavern without blinking. Her wide eyes caught every nuance of the place.
Beneath her rain-soaked gown of scarlet, the Eye of God pulsed against her chest. Looking down, she could see its red jewel behind the wet silk. She paused, trying to feel its unnatural power. The ruby burned against her skin, but that was all. Confused, she touched it with her hand, trying to summon the great god within its gold. Lukien had told her it would keep her safe, but Lahkali felt nothing, and now the warning the Bronze Knight had given came back to her quickly.
‘You may feel nothing,’ Lukien had told her. ‘But when you need him, Amaraz will strengthen you.’
He had placed the amulet around her neck with his own hands, divesting himself of its power with an odd smile on his face. Together they had stared at each other, and Lahkali had watched the pain on his face as the old wounds crept back to claim him. Within minutes, he had been almost unable to stand.
‘Go,’ he had urged her. And she had. She had left him, and whether or not Lukien still lived Lahkali did not know. With tears in her eyes she had climbed the ridge, leaving him and the others behind to find the Great Rass. Now, touching the amulet, Lukien’s kindness overwhelmed her.
‘I’m here,’ she told the spirit inside the Eye. ‘Can you hear me?’
Her whisper echoed through the green haze, but the spirit of the amulet did not reply. Lahkali licked her lips. Her people were well-accustomed to spirits. It was a secret she had never shared with Lukien, or any other outsider. Because she herself had spoken to the dead, the thought of communing with the amulet’s ghost did not frighten her. Rather, she was surprised not to hear its voice, not even silently, within her soul.
‘Lukien tells me you are a great being,’ she whispered, hoping to coax the spirit’s trust. ‘I need your help now, Amaraz. I know you’re angry with Lukien, but he did what he thought was right. Will you help me, Amaraz?’
Amaraz did not reply. His silence unnerved Lahkali. She peered deeper into the haze, looking beyond the gems that twinkled along the rock walls. Beyond the mist was darkness, and from the darkness came the heat, like the breath of a dragon, striking Lahkali’s face. She held tightly to the amulet, trying to glean some strength from it.
‘I know you’re inside,’ she whispered. ‘I know you are with me. The spirits of all my people are with me, too, Amaraz. I speak to them in the garden. Do you know that? Have you seen?’
She supposed there really were no secrets from a god like Amaraz, but if he had ever seen her in the story garden, he clearly had never told Lukien. She wondered why the spirit was so silent, not only to her but to Lukien as well. Her feet were leaden as she considered going further.
‘Protect me, Amaraz,’ she asked. ‘I have to do this thing.’
Lukien felt the cold water running against his back, cooling the wound that bloomed like magic between his shoulders. The mud of the earth took away some of the pain, but the pain 9/14/2010was growing now, coiling around him like the fingers of a giant. Fighting to control his shallow breathing, he imagined himself in a very different place, away from the cold rains of the mountain, back in the warm sands around Jador. He imagined the peace of the desert, and his heartbeat managed to slow. Overhead, he saw the troubled eyes of Karoshin, looking down over him the way a mother might a sick child. Next to the priest, Niharn knelt in the mud, staring peculiarly at Lukien. Niharn could not understand, but the sacrifice seemed to impress him. He nodded as Karoshin spoke, trying to comfort Lukien.
‘. . . as soon as it is done. When you have the amulet back you will be well again, you’ll see.’
Lukien only half heard Karoshin. The intensity of the wound on his back made listening difficult. He gulped the air, but somehow getting enough was impossible. He dug his fingers into the ground, feeling his nails scrape the stones. He was not afraid of dying, but death had not come the way he had supposed. He remembered now how Cassandra had died. Once the spell of the amulet was broken, her cancer had devoured her. Like an inferno, it consumed her. Lukien closed his eyes, searching for what had gone wrong. The wound along his back had been given to him by Trager. They had battled on a mountaintop and Lukien had won, cutting off his enemy’s head and tossing it over the cliff side, but not before taking a mortal blow. Trager’s blade had cut him deep, and when he collapsed Lukien had thought it would be his end, but then he had awoken, alive, with the Eye of God around his neck.
‘What’s happening?’ he heard Niharn whisper. ‘Why is he still alive?’
Karoshin shook his head. ‘Lukien,’ he asked gently. ‘Is this right? Should it be this way?’
Lukien managed to raise his head, but Karoshin set it back down. ‘No,’ said the priest. ‘Lay still. I’m sorry. Do not speak.’
Lukien grabbed his knee and dug his fingers into Karoshin’s flesh. ‘The spell,’ he choked. ‘The spell.’
Karoshin did not understand. ‘All right,’ he whispered.
‘Breaking the spell killed Cassandra,’ Lukien went on. ‘That’s it.’
In his frantic state of mind, he could think of no other answer. Though he no longer wore the Eye of God, the spell that had long protected him had not really been broken, the way it had with Cassandra. He had merely given the Eye away.
‘That’s it,’ he gasped, laughing. ‘But I die, Karoshin, to be sure!’
Karoshin’s smile was kind. ‘Stay awake, Lukien. Wait until Lahkali returns.’
‘No . . .’
‘You must,’ said Karoshin. ‘Why die?’
Lukien closed his eyes, and for a moment felt serene. ‘To go to a better place . . .’
Deeper and deeper Lahkali went into the mountain, and the light of the gems did not diminish. Like torches they lit her way, beckoning her forward, urging her through the meandering cavern. No longer could she see the exit. Up above, the roof of the cave soared. She looked down and watched the water running past her feet, cold and crystal clear. And somehow, she was sure she had reached the Great Rass.
But Lahkali could not see the beast, nor could she hear or smell it either. She simply knew, because her fear took hold so deeply in her bones that her fingers ached and her tongue dried up. In her hands she held the katath, keeping it low the way Lukien and Niharn had taught her. In her lessons, she had learned how to bring it up quickly, thrusting that one, deadly thrust that might bring down the rass. She would have only one thrust, probably, because after that she would be dead.
‘No,’ she promised herself. ‘I will not die today.’
Saying it strengthened her. She calmed herself. In her ears her heartbeat throbbed just a little quieter. It was, she realized, a majestic place, this House of Sercin, and like a tiny few before her she was going to face a god. The realization humbled her, and then the fear fled entirely. It was not so bad to die this way, in this place.
Lahkali walked on
, slowly and in silence, picking her way carefully across the cavern. Her wide eyes scanned for any movement in the mist. Then, up ahead she saw the mists begin to part. A hot breeze spilled out from the gloom. She stopped herself, crouching low and ready, and waited. A shadow moved toward her, barely glimpsed. Lahkali strained to see. As the vapours ebbed, the green gems shined their light on the darkness ahead, revealing the rising figure of a hooded beast.
In the form of a serpent, Sercin still looked like a god. The creature made no sound as it slithered, its great head swaying hypnotically, its eyes filled with black, unblinking life. Its hood fanned out from the side of its head, swirling with colours that rifled along its scales. A creamy under-belly pulsed with breath. The rass stared at Lahkali, looking amused.
‘Sercin . . .’
Sercin, the great god of Torlis, took his time contemplating the Eminence. Lahkali had seen rass before, many times, but they were so different from the thing that rose up now to face her. This rass – the Great Rass – gave her a look of intelligence and pleasure, as if it knew who she was and why she had come. The slits of its eyes fixed on her, unmoving, and Lahkali could not look away, even as the katath began to slacken in her grasp. On her chest, the Eye of God began to burn and flash, and the rass noticed this and grinned, its expression oddly curious. It was certainly the largest living thing Lahkali had ever seen, and yet she was not afraid of it. What she felt instead was awe.
‘I am the Red Eminence of Torlis,’ she declared. ‘I’ve come for your blood, Sercin, to feed the land.’
Her voice sounded small. Sercin replied by opening his mouth and letting out his forked tongue. The long appendage curled unnaturally through the air, as if greeting Lahkali. In her mind she heard its cool, reptilian voice.
You are a child, and I cannot be beaten by a child. Go now, and bring a father or a brother to challenge me.
‘I have no father and no brother to set against you, Great Rass. I say again – I am the Red Eminence.’
The serpent appeared disappointed. You are a girl, and a tiny one. I could swallow you whole, like a bird.
Lahkali nodded. ‘That is right, but I have come prepared for you.’
Sercin’s glowing eyes searched the amulet around her neck. What is that you wear?
‘This is the Eye of God,’ said Lahkali. ‘It is magic, from a place far away. There is a god inside it, a god to protect me.’
Now Lahkali felt the serpent’s enormous pleasure. So then the challenge is real from you, girl. Summon your protector. Let me see him.
‘I cannot. But he is real, Sercin. He will keep me safe and I will kill you, and then your blood will feed the land.’
As it has always been, replied the rass. The scaly face looked satisfied. I am ready to fight you.
Lahkali drew a breath and brought up her weapon again. The Great Rass acknowledged her signal and tucked back its colourful hood. Then, like a cracking whip, it snapped toward her.
Karoshin watched Lukien’s eyelids flutter as the whites of his eyes rolled back into his head. Lukien’s body, still on the rocks, began to convulse and his throat let out a terrible wail. As consciousness at last slipped away, Lukien’s face slackened. Thick red blood began to pool beneath him as the wound on his back opened, soaking though his wet garments. Karoshin, who along with Niharn had rolled Lukien onto his side, tore more of Lukien’s shirt away as he inspected the wound.
It had come over him like magic, just as Lukien had said it would. At first it had only been a scar, but slowly it had opened, oozing blood and throbbing red around the edges. It was a clean wound, made by a expertly sharpened sword, cutting deep between Lukien’s shoulder blades. Karoshin touched the wound lightly with his finger, then set his other hand atop Lukien’s head, gently stroking his long blond hair.
‘He dies,’ said Niharn. The fencing master looked angry. ‘This is stupid. Now they will both die.’
‘Or Lahkali will live,’ said Karoshin.
Niharn gave a grudging nod. ‘It is not impossible.’
Beside them, Lukien’s body started to shiver. He cried out again, lowly and with great effort, regaining a tiny hold on consciousness.
‘The demon in the amulet should let him go,’ Niharn growled. ‘Look at this cruelty!’
‘It is what he wanted,’ Karoshin reminded him.
‘It frustrates me.’ Niharn studied Lukien’s face with pity. ‘Look – it is like he is dreaming. What is he seeing, do you think?’
Karoshin could not say.
It was only the fangs that Lahkali saw, like a blurring heading toward her. The head of the rass exploded forward, its mouth open wide, its long white teeth dripping venom. A rush of air blew Lahkali backward as she spun to avoid the darting head, which reached her in an instant then rose up fast to corner her. The voice of Sercin had left Lahkali’s mind. She turned fast to keep the beast from her back. Her katath came up high for defense. The long body of the rass curled quickly around her, but she jumped, coming up with a roll on the other side. The cavern was giant, and Lahkali had room to move. So she ran.
The rass watched her, probed her, following her through the cavern without attacking. Lahkali reached a group of rocks and dived behind it. In an instant the rass was overhead, its tail to one side of her, its head coming around for another strike. Choosing the tail, Lahkali slashed to the left and freed herself, out in the open once again. The unscathed tail whipped quickly around to slither back behind the patient rass. The creature’s head drew back, sizing her up. Lahkali raised her weapon. The yellowish scales of the serpent’s underside caught her attention. There were the hearts, beating and ready.
Lahkali’s twin blades twitched as she waited. With plenty of room, she bounced from one foot to the other, ready to spring. The rass came down fast, fangs bared, its long tongue darting out like an arm. Lahkali yelled and moved right, then slashed her blades across the hood, catching it and cutting it. As she spun away she heard the snake’s painful hiss filling the cavern. Angrily it rose up, its black eyes glowing in disbelief. Aliz Nok’s amazing blades had sliced easily through the serpent’s flesh, making two deep rents that gushed bright blood.
You are fast, girl! complimented Sercin.
Hearing his voice made Lahkali’s head swim. She struggled against its lulling tone. Already she was breathing hard, and all she had done was nick the beast. She had missed its breast entirely.
‘Come and fight me!’ she cried.
The rass obliged, balling its tongue into a tight fist and firing it forward. The blow caught Lahkali’s chest, sending her sprawling. As she hit the ground the breath shot from her lungs. She rolled desperately to get away, scrambling through the water with her katath in one hand. Knowing she was vulnerable, she got to her feet and turned to see the Great Rass looking down at her. The strange tongue twisted in its mouth.
You are less than I hoped, said the rass. Put your weapon down and I will end this for you. One strike. Death will come quickly.
‘No, I can’t,’ said Lahkali desperately. ‘You have to fight me. I have to kill you!’
You cannot kill me.
‘I must!’
The serpent’s expression grew almost human, with a mix of anger and sorrow. It swayed confidently from side to side, watching Lahkali, sure in its ability to kill her. Lahkali stood her ground, prepared to run or strike or dance away – whatever was needed. Her knuckles were white around her katath. She realized with dread that the rass was blocking the way she had come.
But it didn’t matter. She had come this far, and there really was no turning back. Lahkali raised her katath, knowing that this time there would be no running. This time, she had to fight.
‘Amaraz!’ she cried. ‘Help me!’
The Eye of God flared, sending shards of red light through the chamber. The Great Rass hissed and thrashed its tongue, tasting the venom that dripped from its own fangs. Beneath the shadow of its spreading hood, young Lahkali summoned her courage.
This time
the serpent came like thunder, screeching a hiss and tearing forward. Lahkali waited the split-second before the fangs were near, then stepped aside to work her blades. Expecting her to flee, the rass kept on, barreling into her katath. The hooked blades carved through its face and raked along its hood. Lahkali crossed to the side, lowered to a crouch, and watched the stunned creature lift its head. Blood gushed from the wound across its mouth. Its left eye popped with black ooze. Lahkali didn’t wait. She sprang, unloading her katath with a scream and bounding for the serpent’s breast. The weapon’s blades found the beast’s belly, going through its tough skin as easily as air. Lahkali held on, feeling the rass rise up, pulling her from her feet as an angry wail erupted from its throat. It’s whole body rattled, shaking Lahkali loose. She fell, katath in hand, and looked up into the bruised eye of the Great Rass. From the wound in its gut came the most foul-smelling muck, a greenish-black jelly that rolled down its belly. Lahkali cursed, knowing she had not hit the beast’s hearts.
There were no more words from the beast, no more of Sercin’s playful voice in her head. There was only wrath. The long body of the snake snapped around Lahkali, quicker than a blink, wrapping around her and squeezing her instantly. She screamed, finding herself lifted again, locked in the powerful coils. Lahkali fought to hold on to her katath. Already blood filled her fingers as the pressure within her rose. Her head pounded as higher and higher the creature took her, bringing her face to face and licking its sabre-like fangs.
‘Amaraz, please!’ cried Lahkali. ‘I can’t hold on!’
The hot fire of the amulet burst with dazzling light. A new vigour flooded Lahkali’s muscles. Flexing, she worked the fingers around her katath and straightened the weapon, poising it to strike. The hearts were high, she knew, just feet beneath the head. A little closer and –
Blackness. Lahkali screamed. Burning, spitting venom filled her face. Her eyes caught fire, filling with tears then the most unbearable pain. Blindness came quickly. Lahkali threw her head back, crying out for help. The skin around her eyes began to bubble.