Orion: The Tears of Isha

by Darius Hinks

  They crossed a few more of the squares and found themselves face-to-face with the music makers.

  Life in the forest was full of wonders, but even Ariel and Orion struggled to understand the scene that was waiting for them. A choir of corpses had gathered in the dust: seven bone statues, in various stages of collapse. Some might once have been asrai, others had clearly been animals, but now they were little more than crumbling relics. Some had almost disintegrated, leaving little more than legs and spinal column, or a powdery, broken face.

  This close up, the sadness of the music was almost unbearable.

  Orion turned to Ariel with a stunned expression.

  Her face remained impassive as she approached a brittle white shard, singing with wild desperation.

  ‘Who are you?’ she asked, placing a hand on the singer’s arm.

  The corpse’s face was still fairly intact and, at Ariel’s touch, its colourless eyes rolled in her direction, moving with a dry scraping sound. There was a look of horror written on its death mask but it continued singing, and after a couple of seconds it fixed its gaze back on the desolate landscape.

  Orion’s lip curled at the sight of such disrespect. ‘Your queen is addressing you,’ he snapped, grabbing the corpse’s arm. ‘Dead or not, you will–’

  There was a brittle crunch and the limb shattered, dropping to the ground in a cloud of dust.

  The singer reeled away from Orion, clutching its ruined stump in horror.

  The chorus faltered as the corpses saw the broken arm, but the tune was quickly re-established, even if the voices seemed less confident than before.

  All the dead singers were now watching Ariel and Orion with panicked, sidelong glances but none of them stepped backwards.

  The corpse with the shattered arm stared at Orion in disbelief, then stepped hesitantly back into position, joining its voice to the others.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Orion asked, attempting to raise his voice over the song.

  There was no reply from the singers, but another voice answered, from the shadows behind the choir.

  ‘What could be more tragic than to die unnoticed?’

  It was a low, rattling, female voice. It sounded as though a large animal were speaking to them. ‘Who deserves a death unmarked by tears?’

  Ariel and Orion peered through the crumbling figures, trying to see who was speaking.

  It was hard to tell if the speaker was mocking the singers or pitying them. ‘No eulogies were sung for them, you see, so they’ve written their own. They’re trying to sing themselves home. They’re trying to fly on the wings of a melody. They want to find a way back up into the forest; a way up from the bowels of this blessed oak. They think that if the song is beautiful enough, their families will hear, and pick up the tune. They want only to be remembered.’ The voice paused, and when it spoke again, there was a suspicious edge to it. ‘What do you want?’

  Ariel and Orion edged carefully around the choir, looking for the source of the voice, but all they found was a glimmering curtain of mist, drifting through the shadows.

  ‘Who asks?’ demanded Orion.

  There was no reply.

  Ariel nodded down the avenue of bones and Orion saw that the mist was gathering a few dozen feet away from them, forming a pool of shifting vapour.

  Orion frowned and headed down the avenue, forgetting the dead singers and focusing on the mist. ‘Tell me your name,’ he said.

  There was still no answer and, as they neared the place where the mist had gathered, Ariel took his hand.

  ‘Tread carefully,’ she said, with a flash of warning in her eyes.

  He nodded, then stepped forwards, allowing the fumes to completely envelop him.

  The world of bone and ash vanished, replaced by an ocean of tumbling shadows.

  There was a figure in there. It was as bleached and dusty as the choir, but far more intact.

  ‘Why speak and then hide yourself?’ Orion kept hold of Ariel’s hand as he stepped deeper into the mist, towards the figure.

  As they approached the stranger, Orion muttered a curse. It was a young wardancer. The same gloomy-looking ghost he had seen earlier. The spirit had an earnest, worried look and he was staring intensely at Orion. He was slight, even by the standards of a wardancer, and his eyes were wide and full of doubt.

  Orion stumbled to a halt as he noticed the corpse’s throat – it had been torn open, as though by a wild animal.

  An inexplicable feeling of dread washed over Orion as he met the corpse’s stare.

  ‘Do you recognise him?’ The ground shook with the power of the voice.

  Orion whirled around feeling inexplicably guilty. ‘Perhaps.’ He tried to hide his doubt by speaking in strong, confident tones. ‘What does it matter? I know what you want. Your soul has been plunged into this pit and you wish to find a way out. That is why you spoke. You are wondering if we might be able to help.’

  He peered into the drifting haze, looking for a sign of the voice’s owner.

  When he looked back, he saw that the youth with the torn throat had vanished.

  ‘No matter how many centuries pass,’ said the female voice, ‘none of you will grasp the truth.’ There was anger in the voice, and bitterness. ‘You will remain outlanders, doomed to live in ignorance, blind to the nature of the prize you have destroyed.’

  Orion sneered. ‘Then you will be happy if we leave you here, caged in your own shadow?’

  ‘I am not “caged” in anything.’ The voice grew louder and more feral, shaking dust from the ground. ‘I banished myself from the world; the world did not banish me. I came here through choice, not happenstance.’

  Ariel flinched as a shape moved through the mist, just a few feet from away from her. It was little more than a flicker of movement, but it implied something vast; something slithering.

  Orion saw her alarm and peered into the shifting clouds, following the movement. ‘Why would anyone choose to sever their soul from the forest?’ He tried to keep his voice neutral, not wanting to give anything away, but his disbelief was obvious.

  ‘Perhaps you could tell me?’ The voice became low and venomous again. ‘Why are you not whispering the same pathetic pleas as all the others?’ A note of suspicion entered the voice. ‘Who are you?’

  There was another movement behind them and Orion whirled around, trying to catch a glimpse. Again, he saw nothing more than a suggestion of great size.

  ‘The dead see everything,’ said Ariel, trying to follow the movement. ‘Surely there’s nothing we could tell you that–’

  ‘I am not dead,’ interrupted the voice, verging on a roar. ‘I did not die.’

  For a brief second, they glimpsed eyes in the mist – two enormous slits of malice, glaring down at them from the height of a tall tree. They vanished almost as quickly as they appeared.

  Ariel and Orion turned to each other in shock. Each pupil had been larger than one of the dead trees.

  ‘Then you do not wish to leave?’ Orion remembered Naieth’s advice: they could only trust a guide who did not seek escape from the Endless Vale.

  The mist trailed away from them and pooled a few dozen feet away, in another square of trees.

  Orion rushed after the pale tendrils but, before he had taken more than a few steps, Ariel paced a hand on his arm and brought him to a halt.

  ‘Look,’ she whispered.

  Hundreds of the crumbling ghosts were gathering in the trees, muttering and whispering and edging towards them. The strident, confident tone of Orion’s voice had drawn them out. They were mostly still keeping to the shadows, but some were becoming bolder and edging out into the light, staring at Ariel and Orion with desperate hope in their eyes.

  ‘Have they guessed who we are, I wonder?’ she asked.

  Orion was about to reply when the voice rang out agai
n.

  ‘Guessed who you are?’

  Orion stepped back into the mist and spoke in defiant, strident tones. ‘What do you want, stranger?’

  The mist drew back again and, as it rolled across the dust, they caught a brief glimpse of a long, pitted talon. ‘I want peace – peace from the tyranny of my past. And I want to forget.’ The voice’s fury grew. ‘But even here, I cannot.’

  Orion noticed that the talon had reappeared and this time it remained static. He nodded to Ariel, willing her to distract the stranger for a moment.

  She nodded and stepped away from him. ‘Why do you wish to forget?’ she called out.

  There was a pause but, as he stepped further into the mist, Orion saw that the talon was still visible.

  ‘I wish to forget my foolishness.’ The voice was close and Orion saw Ariel flinch. ‘I had a chance,’ it continued. ‘I could have kept your kind from my home. I could have preserved what we had,’ the voice faltered, ‘but I trusted the others. I believed the lies of the false king and queen and allowed their ruin into the forest.’

  ‘Lies?’ asked Orion, edging towards the shape.

  ‘The lies of that whore-queen, Ariel, and her goat-legged pet.’

  Orion froze and clenched his fists. Rage flooded his whole body and he trembled with the effort of holding back a reply. He managed not to speak but it was no use – his actions betrayed him as clearly as any words. His fury had been seen.

  A vast shape emerged from the mist and shadow. It was the head of a giant serpent, with ivory scales and eyes like oval stars. ‘You’re angry,’ it said, drooling mist from its jaws. ‘Why should you be angry? I think I can guess.’ Its voice was now filled with delight and, as a mountainous bulk rose up behind the creature’s head, it began to laugh.

  ‘I knew it,’ roared the great drake, sending Ariel and Orion staggering backwards with the force of its breath. Its mouth was lined with foot-high teeth. ‘The Mage Queen has come to free you all!’ It lifted its head higher and addressed the whispering ranks of the dead. ‘And she has brought her Idiot King with her!’

  ‘Orion,’ breathed Ariel in shocked tones, grabbing his shoulder.

  He turned to face her and cursed in surprise. The crowd of pale figures had doubled in size and the dead were now hurrying though the mist towards them. As they registered the drake’s words their whispers became a roar.

  Orion grabbed Ariel’s arm and led her down another featureless avenue but, before they had gone more than a few yards, a slab of white-scaled flesh slammed down in front of them, blocking the way. The impact caused them both to stagger and, once they had steadied themselves, they saw the drake’s head swing into view, its eyes blazing with mirth.

  ‘Surely you don’t wish to leave before your subjects have had chance to pay homage?’

  Orion looked back and saw hundreds of desperate faces, charging out of the mist.

  He turned back towards the dragon and kicked furiously at its serpentine loop of scales.

  There was a loud crack and Orion was enveloped by dust.

  The drake withdrew and Orion was about to summon Ariel on, when the creature’s head plunged through the mist towards him.

  Fumes blasted from between its teeth, slammed into Orion’s chest and sent him tumbling backwards. The mist snaked around his limbs and chest, binding him like a net and pinning him to the floor.

  Ariel raised her hands trying to summon help from the surrounding trees, but they remained motionless.

  The dead were almost on them, now. As Orion rolled across the ground, trying to free himself, he caught a glimpse of their shattered faces. They were contorted by terrible hope. They thought he was going to save them. He howled in rage and shrugged off the tendrils of mist, clambering to his feet just seconds before the crowd reached them.

  He and Ariel looked at each other in shock.

  ‘There are too many,’ he said, stepping in front of Ariel and preparing for the impact.

  Just as the dead were about to reach them, a shape rushed by and caused them to falter.

  The leaders of the crowd toppled to the ground, clutching at cracked shins and splintered spines. The rest of the crowd tried to plough on but lost their footing amongst their prone companions. There was a great smashing and clattering as they fell.

  ‘This way,’ said a soft voice.

  Orion saw the doe-eyed young wardancer again, standing at the entrance to another avenue. The youth was pale and haunted, but his expression was nothing like those of the howling savages trying to clamber over each other to reach him. This spirit was mournful rather than crazed, and Orion felt sure he recognised him.

  A strange sense of guilt made Orion falter, but Ariel had no such qualms. Seeing a chance to escape, she dragged Orion towards the youth.

  Before they could reach him, the wardancer raced off down the avenue, and Ariel dragged Orion after him.

  The dead were only momentarily stalled and as Orion glanced back over his shoulder he saw that the crowd had regained its momentum and was thundering after them.

  ‘Face your subjects!’ roared the drake, crashing down before them. As it landed it shattered dozens of the bone trees, revealing its coiled shape fully for the first time. The creature’s bulk was bewildering, but Orion only half registered it. Something about the youth’s expression needled him – it reminded him again of Naieth’s words. ‘You will need to broker forgiveness,’ she had said, and Orion sensed that the wardancer might be the soul he needed if they were to find Sativus. He raced towards the white serpent and threw his shoulder against one of its forelegs.

  The drake screeched as its flesh shattered.

  Orion gasped as his shoulder cracked open, dropping lumps of bone to the dusty ground.

  He stayed upright, despite the pain, and drew back his fist to strike the drake’s other foreleg.

  The dragon was faster, unleashing another blast of fumes. They coiled around Orion’s limbs and began eating into his brittle body.

  Ariel reached his side and muttered an oath, placing her hands on his mist-shrouded body.

  The tendrils withdrew, but before she could help Orion to his feet, the drake thrust its head towards them, clamping its jaws around Orion and wrenching him up into the air like a dog with a scrap of meat.

  Ariel whirled around, looking for some kind of weapon. She found only tormented faces, pouring down the avenue towards her.

  There was a horrible cracking sound as the drake threw back its head and crushed Orion between its rows of teeth.

  Dust and bone tumbled from its jaws and Orion howled in pain, feeling his body collapse.

  There was a flash of movement as the young wardancer reappeared.

  He bounded up the coils of the serpent’s body and leapt at the monster’s head.

  The drake was ecstatic, gurgling with pleasure as it ground Orion between its teeth, and it failed to notice the danger that was hurtling towards its face.

  The wardancer jabbed a shard of rock into one of its colourless pupils.

  The drake howled, keeping Orion locked between its jaws as it recoiled in pain.

  As the creature lurched from view, the wardancer tumbled through the air.

  Seeing that he would be shattered when he hit the ground, Ariel reached out to the tendrils of mist. Some vestige of life answered her call and, for a moment, she was able to weave the strands into a net.

  The wardancer landed safely but, seconds later, the drake’s head smashed against the ground, destroying a square of bone trees and causing the crowds of dead to stumble and fall for a second time.

  The drake had fallen in a square about forty feet away from where Ariel was standing and she raced through the trees towards it, followed by the wardancer.

  As they reached the great drake they saw that it was lying on its back, shaking its coiled body across the brok
en trees and howling furiously. Orion was lying in a crumpled heap a few feet further on.

  The wardancer leapt over the drake, hauled Orion from the ground and began dragging him away from the square. ‘This way,’ he called, glancing back at Ariel.

  She hurried after him and it seemed that the drake was too lost in agony and rage to care.

  They had not gone more than a few feet, however, when Orion wrenched himself free of the wardancer’s grip and lurched back towards the dragon.

  Ariel howled a warning.

  The crowds were pouring into the square from all sides.

  Orion paid no heed, staggering and swaying towards the thrashing coils of the serpent’s body.

  As he neared the dragon, a few of the bone-spirits attempted to lay hands on him, but he ploughed through them, grabbing something from the ground as he went.

  For a moment he was lost from view, then the dragon’s head reared up from the crowd, letting out another deafening roar. Orion had picked up a shard of bone and jabbed it through the monster’s throat. As it reared and howled, the dragon’s neck splintered. For a moment it continued rising higher over the trees, trying to shake Orion loose. Then its neck gave way and its head came free.

  There was a deafening crash as the drake fell, headless, to the ground, and the pale crowds scrambled back into the trees, desperate not lose their own fragile flesh.

  Seconds later, Orion staggered out of the swirling clouds of dust, heading back towards Ariel and the wardancer. ‘I will not have you called a whore,’ he growled as he reached Ariel’s side.

  The wardancer looked back at the square. As the dust settled, the dead were already massing again, looking around for a sign of their king.

  ‘You must follow me,’ he said.

  Ariel and Orion saw him close up for the first time. Like everyone else, his spirit body was a brittle shell of bone, but his was more intact than most – as though he had only recently arrived in the Endless Vale.

  ‘Who are you?’ demanded Orion.

  ‘There’s no time.’ The stranger gave Orion an imploring look. ‘Follow me. We can talk later.’