Heights of the Depths

by Peter David

  “So despite your differences, you have much in common.”

  “Except Clarinda would never do it. Ever. She is too afraid of her mother even to seriously contemplate such an action. And eventually Clarinda is to become Mistress herself.”

  “And she is daunted by the responsibilities of the office?”

  “It is not a matter of the responsibilities. It is what they…” He took a deep breath and said, “Upon becoming Mistress, Clarinda will be forced to have her breasts removed and her feminine parts will be burned into nothingness. Thus as a sexless being, she can equally represent both genders.”

  Karsen stopped where he was. Eutok followed suit. “That’s…that’s hideous,” he said. “This promise you made…is it related to—?”

  “She made me promise that, were that to transpire, I would kill her, because she had no desire to live like that.”

  “Gods.” Karsen’s head was reeling from trying to take it all in. “And…they’re going to do this to her soon?”

  “After she is mated and produces an heir.”

  “Wait…” Karsen was back to being confused again. “That’s going to take some time, yes? I mean, I don’t know the gestation cycle for Piri, but I assume it doesn’t happen overnight.”

  “That’s unlikely.”

  “Then you could return to her! Take her out of there!”

  “One Trull against Piri hordes? How long do you think I would last?”

  “Not long,” Karsen admitted. “But—”

  “But what?”

  He thought for a long moment and then squared his shoulders. “She has not been mated yet with a Piri. She is not with child.” When the Trull shook his head, Karsen continued, “Then we have some time. Time to find Jepp, or at least do our damnedest to find her. And however that quest ends then, for good or ill, I in turn will assist you in going to the territory of the Piri and getting Clarinda out of there.”

  “Why? Why would you do that?”

  “Because you are aiding me.”

  “I did so out of self-interest.”

  “And now?”

  Eutok considered it and then said, “I have naught better to do.”

  “Yes, you do. Helping Clarinda. And I will do that in return.”

  “You say that now,” said Eutok dourly. “But when you have your lady love in your arms, you may well feel differently.”

  “If I have her in my arms, I will be grateful to you, and my gratitude will be appropriately displayed.”

  “We’ll see,” said Eutok, but he sounded doubtful.

  ii.

  It was two full suns later, when Karsen was beginning to feel growing frustration and Eutok was beginning to wonder if maybe it wouldn’t be a better idea for him to just go after the Piri singlehandedly and get ripped to shreds rather than deal with this frustration and guilt, that they encountered the oddest Merk either of them had ever seen. Not that either of them had ever seen a Merk, since they—along with their brethren, the Markene—stayed to the waters. Still, it was rather obvious that this curious creature was most definitely a Merk, and probably unusual even for one of them.

  They had been astride the whores, going at a slow trot, when they first spotted the Merk and reined up. His scaled skin was dark brown, and his green hair dangled from his head as if someone had taken a plate of seaweed and dumped it upon him. He was in some sort of odd floating device, which was a strange thing for him to have considering that the Merk were aquatic. He wasn’t moving his arms or his legs, but instead simply allowing himself to drift aimlessly. The Merk didn’t appear to spot them; it was almost as if he were staring inward. He was so quiet that Eutok didn’t notice him at first, and it was Karsen who drew the Trull’s attention to him. Once Eutok spotted him, he turned to Karsen questioningly. “Do you think…?”

  “Worth a try,” said Karsen, and then he raised his voice. “Excuse me!”

  The Merk regarded him with half-lidded eyes. “Which of the four of you spoke?”

  “The four of—?” Karsen wanted to laugh but he had no desire to seem impolite. “These are just whores. Animals.”

  “Ah. I did not assume, having never seen them before. Actually, I wasn’t eliminating the possibility that you were a sort of combined creature. One never knows what one will see on the Damned World.”

  Eutok and Karsen exchanged glances that said, That’s for sure with regards to the individual floating in front of them. Then Karsen, clearing his throat, said, “Yes, well…we were just wondering about something that may have been seen. By you, I mean.”

  “Any particular something?” The Merk looked mildly amused. He still wasn’t moving any part of his body. “There has been a good deal of things to see as I drift.”

  “Why are you just drifting?” said Eutok. Karsen glared at him because he was wandering off topic, but Eutok persisted, “Can’t you swim?”

  “Most of my body is broken,” said the Merk. “An accident. Well…not exactly an accident. I caused it. Or at least was instrumental in it. Nothing you need to worry about. I would have raised my hand in a sort of dismissive manner while saying that, but, well, you can see why that wasn’t an option.”

  “Certainly,” said Eutok, who was already sorry he’d asked.

  “This something that we’re looking for,” said Karsen, “would be a female. A Mort female.”

  “In the company of Travelers?”

  Karsen felt jolted, as if someone had just slammed a spear into his backside.

  Meanwhile the Merk continued, “Black haired? Lovely, if you believe that human females are capable of loveliness?”

  “Yes! Yes, that’s her! I can’t believe it!”

  “Nor can I,” said Eutok dubiously. “You realize it might easily be some other human female…”

  “Who matches Jepp’s description and is in the company of Travelers? Impossible! Or at least insanely unlikely.” He hesitated, almost afraid to ask. “Do you know which way they went, Merk? Or remember?”

  “They were heading to the Spires.”

  “The Spires! Are you sure?”

  “One of the Travelers said as much to another.” He smiled wryly. “Mentioned it in conversation. They have a very curious language, the Travelers do, when speaking to each other. You’d probably hear nothing but whispers. But Markene have far sharper hearing.”

  “You’re a Merk,” Karsen said uncertainly. If he had to remind this creature of his own race, he was starting to wonder just how dependable anything he was saying was.

  “I’m aware of that,” said the Merk, sounding not a little amused. “But a Markene was with me, and followed the vessel for a bit. He returned to me and told me what they had said. Markene are accustomed to being able to hear under the waters, you see. Very little that can be said in their presence that—”

  “Wait…their vessel? They were on a ship?”

  “Of course,” the Merk said reasonably. “Walking to the Spires isn’t exactly practical.”

  Karsen felt a sense of helplessness welling up. “How the hell are we supposed to follow them to the Spires?” With fading hope, he said to the Markene, “Do you have a boat we can borrow? Or keep?”

  “We’re Sirene. What would we need with boats? Besides, has either of you sailed?” When they shook their heads, he said, “So you don’t know where you’re going, and you have no experience with the means to get there. If I did have a boat to give you, I would be condemning you to a slow death.”

  “Better that,” said Karsen morosely, “then living with the knowledge that Jepp is in their hands and we remain helpless to do anything about it.”

  “Oh, please!” Eutok shook his head in disgust. “She’s a Mort, Karsen. When all is said and done, she remains a Mort. How much melodrama do you require?”

  Karsen glared at him. “I’m not like you, Trull. I’m not so cold hearted that I can just shut my mind off to the needs of a female I love. Do you even understand the concept of love?”

  “I understand more t
han you think. Don’t presume to know my mind.”

  Rage began to surge in him, but just as quickly it subsided, overwhelmed by a sense of despair. “Forget it. Forget it, Eutok. You’ve exceeded your obligation to me, real or imagined. I have no way of reaching the Spires, and Jepp is going to be in the hands of the Travelers, and I can’t get her back, and there’s nothing you can do about it. If you want me to come with you to try and rescue Clarinda, I will do so. If you don’t, then you’ll receive no judgment from me. I’m really in no position to sit in judgment on anyone.”

  They sat there upon their whores, no words passing between them. Eutok seemed as if he wanted to say something, but was hesitant to do so.

  “There is, of course, the Crossing.”

  It had been the strange, floating Merk who had spoken. Karsen looked at him in confusion. “The what?”

  “The Crossing.” He said it so matter-of-factly that Karsen unaccountably felt stupid for not knowing what he was referring to.

  “And what would that be?”

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you that. He can.” He nodded toward Eutok, causing his boat to bob slightly.

  Eutok looked stunned. “How do you know about the Crossing? You’re not a Trull. Only Trulls know of the Crossing.”

  “What’s the Crossing?” said Karsen.

  “It goes under the water,” said the Merk.

  “So?” said a clearly irritated Eutok.

  “What’s the Crossing?” Karsen repeated.

  “So anything that goes under the water is going to be known to the Sirene,” said the Merk.

  “What’s the Crossing!?”

  Eutok shifted uncomfortably on the back of his whores. “It’s a tunnel. A Trull tunnel that runs under the Vast Waters. There’s even a Truller track, although I have no idea whether it’s functioning or not.”

  “Why did the Trulls build an underground tunnel from here to the Spires?”

  “We didn’t.”

  “But you just said—”

  “We built it from the Spires to here.”

  Understanding began to dawn. “When we first arrived here, you wound up in the Spires.”

  “Not me personally,” said Eutok. “It was long before my time.”

  “As it was before mine.”

  “When the Spires was made the home of the Overseer, our then-leaders decided that the wisest course would be to put as much distance between the Trulls and the Overseer as possible. My understanding is that the Spires is situated on a vast continent, but our ancestors felt that it was better to leave it to the Overseer and his minions.”

  “They felt the Overseer needed an entire continent?” Karsen shook his head in astonishment. “How much power does this one individual have, anyway?”

  “It is said his power is limitless. He can destroy you with but a look. With a wave of his hand, he can command the elements. Annihilate you with lightning, blow you away with a vast wind. He can turn back the hands of time, and emit blasts of force from his eyes.”

  “I accept that it’s all said. But has anyone ever purported to see it himself?”

  “None have survived,” Eutok said gravely.

  “Really. None.”

  “None.”

  “Then how,” said Karsen, “would anyone possibly be able to report the specifics of what the Overseer can or cannot do? And whie we’re at it, why did you say there were no Trull tunnels to other lands?”

  Eutok started to reply but fell silent.

  The odd Sirene was continuing to float there as if he were enjoying watching a show of some sort. When both of them fell silent, he prompted them. “So what are you going to do? I’m just interested, mind you.”

  Karsen hesitated and then said, “The Crossing isn’t guarded, you say?”

  “I didn’t say that. I said it wasn’t maintained.”

  “Why?”

  “Why would it be?” he said with a shrug. “It’s not as if my people would have the slightest interest in heading back to the Spires. We focus our resources where they will do the most good. It seemed ridiculous to have maintenance crews involved in a section of tunnel that we never intend to travel.”

  Karsen had to admit that it made sense. “So we should be able to take this tunnel, this Crossing, to the Spires.”

  “If the Trullers are functional, yes.”

  “And if they’re not? Can you repair them?”

  “I have absolutely no idea.”

  Karsen considered that and then said, “All right. Fine. That’s enough for now. Do you know which direction this Crossing is?”

  “Yes. The entrance is in a city called Porto, in the country of Espan.”

  “Minosaurs run rampant through Espan, and they can be notoriously territorial.”

  “I know. One of several reasons I lied earlier. So let’s not go.”

  “But we have to!”

  “Make up your mind!”

  “All right!” He put his hand to his head. “If you’re willing to guide me, then I’m willing to follow you. And you,” he turned to the Merk who was continuing to float there. “I am in your debt.”

  The Merk did not seem particularly concerned. “You owe me nothing. The truth is that I have been floating around for quite some time with not much to occupy me. I have to depend on passing Markene to feed me. It is not much of a life, really. But we can only make so many choices in our lives, and the rest is left to blind chance. It is what it is.”

  “At least tell me your name so that I can offer prayers of thanks to the gods on your behalf.”

  “Ruark.”

  “Ruark.” Karsen rolled the name around in his head. “I seem to recall the Sirene have a ruler by that name.”

  “Yes. Yes, we do. And he brought destruction and damnation down upon his people, and will likely be paying for that for the remainder of his life.” He smiled lopsidedly. “Poor bastard.”

  The currents seemed to shift on their own, and the bobbing Merk drifted away from them. “Best of fortune to you,” he said. “May you receive the destiny that you desire, if not the one you deserve.”

  They sat atop the whores and watched him float away.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” said Eutok. “And do I even want to know?”

  “I strongly suspect you do not. I know I don’t.” With that he wheeled his whores around and the two of them galloped off on the path to Porto.

  upper and lower reaches of suislan

  I.

  Pavan’s thoughts flew back to those times when Akasha had warned him against the dangers of wishing too hard for things. The gods have a way of giving us that for which we’ve wished in such a way that we wished we’d never brought it up in the first place.

  In that regard, he thought about the times when he had looked down, down from the upper reaches of Suislan and gazed in fascination at the magnificently structured castles far down in the lower reaches. There weren’t a lot of them, at least not from where he could see. But they were certainly majestic things, and he would wonder what it would be like to reside in such a structure. The Lodge was perfectly serviceable and had been a decent home to him, but it certainly wasn’t a castle. The Ocular were said to live in a castle. Why not the Serabim?

  Well, the answers to that were fairly obvious, actually. The Serabim were hardy enough to survive anywhere; indeed, some preferred the lowlands, especially forests. But for the most part, and certainly in the case of Pavan’s tribe, they were more comfortable in a chillier climate. And so the magnificent castles remained something that were nothing but a distant, unfulfilled longing for Pavan.

  Until now. Apparently Akasha had been right yet again, and the gods had provided Pavan’s wish in such a way that his newest wish was never to have wished for the previous wish.

  Now he was gazing out the small window of his small room, looking longingly toward the Upper Reaches that now seemed so astoundingly far away. He thought about the unfettered freedom he had there, and of Demali’s soft caresses, an
d even Seramali’s boisterousness that he considered so annoying at the time and for which he was now incredibly nostalgic.

  The room in which he was being kept was five stories high. Normally that would not have presented a problem for him. He could easily climb down the side of the castle, his claws either seeking out nooks and crannies in the wall or even sinking their own grips when necessary. Unfortunately, there were half a dozen Mandraques on the ground standing guard to make sure he didn’t do exactly that. And there were several more outside his door. He didn’t know how many, but he heard exchanges of conversations, and knew there were several.

  The door suddenly burst open and Pavan whirled to face whatever threat it was that was coming through the door. A Mandraque sauntered in, and Pavan growled low in his throat when he recognized him. There was another Mandraque visible standing guard.

  “I trust you are enjoying your stay with us?” said Thulsa. He gestured toward the Mandraque outside. “Belosh has been tasked with attending to you. If you have any needs, you have but to inquire.” The one he called Belosh made an irritated expression.

  Pavan said nothing; he just glowered at him.

  “Ah. You are annoyed with our actions. I understand.” Thulsa was walking back and forth with his arms draped behind him, looking like the king of all he surveyed. Were Pavan of a bellicose nature, he would have taken the opportunity to launch himself at Thulsa and try to tear his head off. It likely would not have gone well, though, because not only was Thulsa clearly a warrior-born, but several more Mandraques were visible through the open door, glaring in in a manner that was doubtlessly intended to be threatening. Since Pavan felt threatened, it was obviously working. “This must be daunting for one such as you. It is my understanding that Keepers, by nature, are pacifistic. Not for you are the ways of war. Such emotions would make you useless to the Zeffers. Am I right?”

  Pavan considered continuing his silence, but was starting to get bored with it. Thulsa was far too in love with the sound of his own voice and wouldn’t stop talking whether Pavan responded or not. “You know you’re right,” he said. “Then again, I am of no use to the Zeffers when I’m down here in your clutches.”