Heights of the Depths

by Peter David

  Closer…closer…all the time in the world. That was what she kept telling herself, and yet it was difficult to maintain that degree of levelheadedness as her growing hunger try to compel her to be precipitous. She realized her legs were shaking and she stilled them with effort.

  The bir was growling low in its throat; she could hear it even from her perch. Then the bir stopped moving. She became concerned that it had caught her scent somehow, even though there was simply no way it should have been able to. There was a long pause that seemed to stretch out forever, and she was about to cry out in hunger and frustration when suddenly the bir was moving and it was there, right below her, lumbering into view. Padding forwarded on all fours, it stopped dead again, looking around, sniffing the air as if certain there was something in the vicinity that posed a danger but unable to determine precisely what.

  Perfect, she thought, and Clarinda released her hold on the branch. She descended, straight as a perfectly thrown spear. The bir must have had a second or two warning caused by the air rushing past her as she fell, but she couldn’t do anything about that. It wasn’t going to matter, though. The bir was big and slow moving and there was no way that it was going to be able to dodge her.

  She was right.

  Clarinda landed on the bir’s back. The bir roared and tried to claw at her, but she had her arms wrapped around its throat so that its flailing claws couldn’t reach her.

  To her astonishment, the bir suddenly reared back and stood on its hind legs. It can stand on two legs? Shit. She hadn’t known they could do that. She had only ever seen them down in Subterror where the ceilings were so low that the bir standing upright had never been a possibility. Even as she processed this new and distressing bit of information, she dug her fingers into its fur to prevent herself from sliding off. Her legs wrapped around its midsection and then Clarinda, baring her fangs, sunk them into the creature’s throat.

  The bir roared and threw itself backward against the nearest tree.

  Pain ripped through Clarinda’s body, the sheer weight of the creature nearly being sufficient to crush her. Originally she had intended simply to take enough of the creature’s blood to satisfy her hunger. That was rapidly becoming no longer a possibility. If she released her hold on the bir and it was still alive, the thing was so fearsome and full of power that it would turn upon her and rip her to shreds. This was no longer simply a meal. This was Clarinda fighting for her survival.

  Howling, the bir staggered forward from the tree. She braced herself for another impact, drinking quickly, greedily, blood dribbling down the sides of her mouth and onto the creature’s fur. The bir did not repeat the maneuver, however. Perhaps it was just too damned stupid to realize that it had hurt her and that repeated impacts of that nature might well be sufficient to—at the very least—shake her loose.

  Instead the bir dropped to all fours and then threw itself to its side. Clarinda barely had time to yank her leg clear, repositioning herself. Had the creature landed with its full weight upon her, she would have been permanently crippled.

  Even as she shifted her position atop the bir, she never lost the solid hold of her fangs in its throat. As the blood flowed from the creature and into her, the bir became weaker while Clarinda became progressively stronger. Toward the end, as the bir writhed in her grasp, it became less and less aggressive and she knew that she had it. The danger was past and she had provided sustenance not only for herself but for her unborn child.

  Suddenly, with no warning at all, something grabbed her by the back of the throat and flung her clear of the bir. She sailed across the space and slammed into a tree, rebounding from it and hitting the ground. She had enough time to get her hands and feet under her and she landed, in a crouch like a wolf preparing to spring.

  “Bartolemayne,” she whispered.

  That was indeed who was standing in front of her. It was Bartolemayne, the most formidable and dangerous of all the Piri. He had taken advantage of her in the same manner that she had managed to catch the bir unawares; he had approached her from downwind. And she had been so engrossed in her meal that any sounds Bartolemayne might have made as he approached on foot went completely unnoticed.

  Bartolemayne was rarely seen around Subterror. He was considered the right hand of the Mistress, and because of that, he best served Sunara as a ranging spy. Bartolemayne came and went as he wished. None were more adept at hunting, fighting, or accomplishing whatever Sunara Redeye required.

  Unlike most of the Piri who were wiry and lean nearly to the point of desiccation, Bartolemayne was massively built. Not on par with an Ocular, but a head taller than any other Piri and as wide as three of them. His hair was long and flowing rather than a stringy mess as was the case with most males, and his eyes burned a pale green, which was a most unusual color for a Piri and an indicator at an early age that Bartolemayne was destined for achievements far beyond those of most Piri.

  That, and the fact that all his teeth were fangs. Not just tucked in neatly on either side, as was typical for Piri, but every single one. When he grinned, which was often and never good news for the individual he was grinning at, they were frightening even to a Piri.

  A half dozen more normal Piri were clustering in around Bartolemayne, jumping around excitedly, their knuckles dragging on the dirt. They were whispering her name, “Clarinda, Clarinda,” dodging and moving as if she were attacking them.

  The bir was lying nearby, trembling. It tried to get to its feet and fell over, still too weak to move. The Piri noticed it and looked hopefully to Bartolemayne. He gave a single nod and they sprinted toward it, covering the poor suffering creature like army ants. The bir howled as the Piri bit down wherever on its body they could, seemingly not even caring if they hit veins. They just wanted to feast.

  Bartolemayne did not bother to join them. He was far too superior to the rest of them to engage in such a group meal. Instead he returned his attention to Clarinda, who was frozen in the defensive position she had assumed.

  “Your mother misses you, Clarinda,” he said softly. That was how he always spoke, sometimes so quietly that it was barely above a whisper. “She misses you ever so much.”

  “And that’s why she sent for you.” It was all clear to her now.

  He nodded slowly. “Of course. To bring her wayward child home.”

  She knew it was a waste of time to try to appeal to Bartolemayne’s sense of mercy. It was well known that he had none. But she needed to do something, just to buy herself some time. “I have no future with our people. You must know that.” She had to raise her voice to hear herself above the slurping of the Piri and the dwindling and pathetic moans of the bir.

  “Your future is of no interest to me. All that matters is that the Mistress warned you what would happen if you ran.”

  Clarinda slowly crawled across the ground toward him. She smiled up at him with as close to a look of seduction as she could manage under the circumstances. There was blood visible on her lips, her cheeks, her chin. She hoped that would serve to make her more alluring. “Come now, Bartolemayne. That cannot be all that matters to you. Certainly there are other things of equal importance.” She drew close enough to run her hand along his bare leg, straying up to his knee. “Those others,” and she inclined her head toward the Piri who were finishing their meal, “will do as you command. Command them to return home. Then it can be just you and me, and together we can…”

  “Together?” His double row of fanged teeth drew back in derision. “Together?” He lashed out with his foot and caught her on the side of the head. Clarinda fell to the side, hitting the ground heavily. “You are damned lucky that I am sworn to do you no serious harm. Not as long as you are with child. Still…do you seriously think there can be any ‘together’ with one who has defiled herself with a Trull, no less? A Trull? Or do you think your mother neglected to tell me that?”

  “Lies, Bartolemayne,” she said desperately. “She lied to you. Or she was mistaken. Either way. You cannot beli
eve that I would do such a thing.”

  “Tragically, I can believe it all too readily. I know you of old, Clarinda. You always had nothing but contempt for your own people. And every Piri male and female knew that, and tolerated it because you were daughter of the Mistress and heiress to the title. That is not going to continue to be the case, however, and I assure you of this, Clarinda: As much as I journey this land, I will take time to return and be there for when you are finally made to pay for your arrogance and smugness. Once you have pushed that child out through your nethers, then there shall be a reckoning. The hybrid freak will be destroyed, and as for you—”

  Clarinda did not wait to hear. Instead she abruptly lunged forward, hoping to catch him unawares. Perhaps sink her teeth into the tendons behind his ankles, rip them out, hamstring him, render him helpless.

  She had no chance. Bartolemayne yanked his legs clear, deftly stepping out of her way. He grabbed her by the nape of the neck, yanked her to her feet and twisted her around so that she was facing away from him. He was handling her so effortlessly that one would have thought her a child having her parent’s will forced upon her. She tried to drive a foot back at him, but he caught it and lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. He started to bend her backwards and she cried out.

  “Have you had enough?” he said patiently. “Are you through fighting?”

  Seizing bravado as her only option, she grunted through her pain, “You have absolutely no idea how much trouble you’re in. All I have to do is cry out and my army will descend upon you.”

  The other Piri, having sated themselves on the bir, were moving toward her and chuckling to each other.

  “Very well,” Bartolemayne challenged her. “Summon them. Let us tremble in fear at your army.”

  He could have throttled her, preventing her from drawing breath. He did not do so. That was how confident he was that she was bluffing, which of course she was.

  Nevertheless she filled her lungs and cried out as loudly as she was able, “To me! To me, my followers!”

  Nothing. Dead silence, save for the snickering of the Piri and a soft, almost disappointed sigh from Bartolemayne.

  “All right, Clarinda. Now it’s time to—” Suddenly Bartolemayne’s head snapped around. He looked bewildered. “What the hell—?”

  He had detected the scent first, but even if he had possessed no nose at all, the steady trembling of the ground that made it seem as if an earthquake was approaching would have alerted him. The Piri were looking at each other in concern as trees were heard crashing in the near distance.

  I’ll be damned, thought Clarinda.

  With a roar of pure fury, Turkin smashed out of the underbrush.

  He had a bir in either hand. The birs were smaller than the one that Clarinda had attacked, but they were still wild and furious and looking for someone or something to attack.

  Turkin was perfectly happy to accommodate them. He hurled the animals at the Piri, first one and then the other. The first of the birs landed atop two of the Piri, crushing them beneath its paws and roaring so loudly and furiously that the other Piri immediately backpedalled. The second bir had not been quite as well aimed, thudding to the ground and spinning toward the nearest of the Piri. It opened its mouth and roared so loudly that the Piri were falling over each other to get out of its way.

  Bartolemayne looked annoyed. “A child, Clarinda? Your army consists of one Ocular child? Do you seriously…?”

  Then he heard them. More thundering of huge feet stampeding their way, and the noise of the approaching Ocular was combined with the bellowing of the birs and the terrified cries of the Piri. Piri were perfectly capable of bravery when they significantly outnumbered their prey and could overrun it with minimal risk to themselves. This was not the situation they were being faced with now, and they had little taste for it.

  Clarinda saw the concern in their faces, and cried out over the oncoming thundering, “And that is simply the first wave! Call them children if you wish, but how do you plan to stand up to a hundred of them!”

  “You are bluffing,” said Bartolemayne.

  “Try me.”

  Bartolemayne hesitated and then, with an angry snarl, threw her down. The Piri were busy trying to keep away from the two angry birs, both of whom were doing their best to take down whatever Piri they could get their teeth on.

  “If you fancy yourself the head of an army, Clarinda, know that I will raise up an army against you,” said Bartolemayne. He did not sound the least put out by this reversal of fortune. If anything, he seemed pleased, even excited by the prospect of having to rise to a challenge. “And we will take you and your children down, and feast on their carcasses for many months.”

  He called out a brisk command to the remaining Piri, who would happily have fled earlier if anyone save Bartolemayne had been leading them. But they were relieved to have the opportunity to vacate the area, and they did so without any further urging.

  As a result, more of the Ocular hunters came pouring into the clearing just as the Piri vanished into the shadows. Bellowing their anger over the disappearance of their intended victims, and wanting to have nothing to do with the Ocular if they could help it, the younger birs charged away into the shadows of the trees.

  Berola came running up behind Turkin, with several more Ocular behind her. “You’re letting them get away! Those birs were our dinner!”

  “They’re serving us well enough sending the Piri scattering,” said Clarinda firmly. “Let’s take advantage of it. Gather the others. We need to leave.”

  “But we haven’t eaten—”

  “Better that than being eaten!” Clarinda shouted at him, having no intention of discussing the matter at length. “We haven’t gotten far enough from my people!” She didn’t add that she wasn’t sure it was possible to get far enough. The reach of the Piri seemed very long indeed. “If you value your lives, then we need to distance ourselves!”

  “We were being trained to fight them,” said Turkin heatedly. “We’re not afraid.”

  “Nor are you ready. And you’re going to need time to get ready, and that’s what I need to provide you now. Not another word! We go or you die! Make your choice and be prepared to live with it, or not!”

  iv.

  Her voice had been sharp enough and her attitude clearly brooking no argument from them, so Turkin, Berola and the others fell into behind her. When they had returned to Kerda and the others, there had been questioning looks and attempts to discern what had just happened. Clarinda had shut it all down and led them away from the immediate area.

  They continued to move through the darkness, and it seemed to Clarinda that every shadow from every outstretched tree hid an enemy. Every branch was like a giant outstretched hand with long, wooden fingers, threatening to grab them and hold them.

  The Ocular continued to run as quickly as their huge legs would carry them. Hour passed into hour, and darkness continued to hold sway as was typical for the land of Feend. They were, however, heading steadily south, and Clarinda knew that sooner or later they would leave the land of perpetual darkness behind them. When that happened, travel would become more problematic. Ocular were damned near blind during the day, and Clarinda would likewise require shelter from the sun’s rays lest it threatened to burn the skin from her body. Meanwhile Bartolemayne, less daunted by the sun than average Piri, would not be likewise constrained. He would no doubt lead the Piri in continued search of her, finding passages, caves and the like in which they could hide while they mounted their continued pursuit. There would be no place to rest. She had told the Ocular she would train them, mold them into a fighting force. The truth was that she had little concept of how to do such a thing, and no time in which to do it. The Piri had them on the run and there was no end in sight, unless one considered the Piri falling upon them during an unguarded moment, killing all the Ocular and stealing Clarinda back into the depths of Subterror to be an end. I suppose it is. It simply isn’t an end that I wo
uld welcome.

  Yet that was very likely the end that awaited them, unless they could find sanctuary.

  Sanctuary.

  “I know where we have to go,” she said abruptly. “I know where we will be safe from the Piri.”

  This brought the entire squad of Ocular to a halt. They grouped around Clarinda in a manner that could only be considered protective. She found it honestly to be somewhat sweet. It surprised her that she was thinking of Ocular in that manner. These brainless children who had only been a means to an end, to be used and disposed of when it was convenient. Yet now she thought it almost charming the way they were clustering around her as if to shield her from any harm.

  “Where?” said Kerda with hope in her voice that she almost seemed afraid to acknowledge was there.

  “Perriz.”

  The Ocular looked at each other, their single eyes blinking rapidly in both awe and amazement. “The home of the Firedraques? Really?” said Berola.

  “Yes. Really. The Firedraques are the great peacemakers. They always have been. If they agree to take us under their wing, we will be safe.”

  “And if they don’t?” said Turkin.

  “They will,” Clarinda said with a firmness that she did not feel, but at least was able to sound convincing over when she said it. “I know it. And if I know it, then you can know it, too.”

  “My mother always wanted to see Perriz!” said Berola. “Apparently she read about it a great deal in her youth! She told me all kinds of stories about it! But isn’t it far?”

  “Very,” said Clarinda. “But we will move as much as we can without resting, and find food along the way, and we will make the journey faster than any others possibly could. And we will find safety there, and sanctuary, and a home.”