by Shea Godfrey
“Do you know why I’m climbing this rock?”
“I know why I am here.”
“Yes, but why am I?”
“Because you must get to the top. The holy men of my people used to say it is better to reach the top and make your offering than to fall off and die. There would be no purpose in that.”
Darry craned her neck. “I’d have to agree, but I don’t think I can make that.”
The woman tapped Darry’s cheek with a light touch and Darry returned to her. “I think you should try. They say the gods sit up there and watch the sun set and smoke their pipes.” Her mismatched amber and brown eyes widened and there was a flash of humor in them. “To sit and smoke a pipe with your god is better than a prayer, yes?”
Darry smiled and felt very tired. “Can we just sit here for a bit?”
“We can, but there is something at the top I need to show you, as well.”
“What is it?”
The woman smiled. “You are like my Akasha, always wanting to know your surprises.”
Darry blinked at her. “Akasha?”
“No,” the woman replied in a firm voice. “I will not tell you what it means.”
Darry nodded at the familiar answer and stared into the distance beneath the far horizon. “Where are your people, then?”
“They are all dead now,” she said in a quiet voice that was colored with sadness. “I am the last of my kind.”
*
Jessa and Etienne sat Darry upright on the floor beside the banked hearth in Sebastian’s Tower, the worktable beyond the sitting area covered by the contents of Jessa’s medicine bag. Jessa braced herself against what she knew would follow and her stomach churned in an angry manner. “Cut it,” she ordered in a tight voice and Arkady obeyed.
The horse clippers snapped through the shaft of the bolt but an inch from Darry’s flesh.
Jessa felt the tip as it protruded from Darry’s back, high upon her left shoulder. “Pull it, Etienne.”
Etienne took a deep breath as he wrapped his hand about the broadhead. “Sorry, Captain,” he whispered and then pulled.
The shaft slid from Darry’s flesh and her blood followed after as Jessa packed the wound in the seconds that followed. She looked up as her hands kept to the task. “Put pressure on the front of the wound.” Jessa waited until he had done so and then caught his eyes. “What did she say again?”
“We must follow Hinsa,” Etienne answered. “But I don’t know where Hinsa is.”
“She will come. Where is Bentley?”
“He was right behind us, my Lady. What was she talking about?”
Jessa pulled Darry close and held her tight, her eyes upon the blood that slowly stained her hands. “Press harder, please,” she said, and Etienne did as he was told.
Jessa looked up. “Arkady, the bells will ring soon, so we have very little time. Find everyone, no one gets left behind, do you hear?”
“Yes, my Lady,” he answered. “That’s easy enough. Grissom threw us from the barracks when we refused to sign up with the Kingsmen again. We moved our things to the stables.”
Jessa considered his words. “Bring them, and bring the horses. Do not forget Vhaelin Star and Talon.” She remembered their race to Tristan’s Grove and how she had held Darry as she had wept. Until that day, Jessa had not known what it was to be truly needed. It had been the last moment of her old life, and the first of her new. “Bring your weapons, bring everything you can carry.”
“Yes, my Lady,” Arkady replied. “But bring it where?”
“Back here, to the tower. Go, do it now, and do it fast.”
“We’ll draw attention.”
“Then ride, Arkady, and run them down if they try and stop you.”
Arkady nodded. “Aye, my Lady.”
“And no matter what you see, keep riding. Don’t stop.”
“Aye, my Lady.”
“Go then, go!”
Arkady ran, leaving the tower door open behind him as he disappeared into the night.
“The bleeding is slowing down,” Etienne said and gave her a crooked grin as he looked up. “I think I can take it now, if you wish to get dressed.”
Jessa looked down and realized she wore but her blue tunic, which was now covered with blood, even as she was.
“I won’t look, my Lady, I promise,” Etienne added as he grabbed for more bandages with his free hand.
Darry’s body was hot to the touch and Jessa lowered her face as she tightened her embrace. Darry’s curls were damp with sweat and blood.
“Go on now, my Lady,” Etienne replied in a gentle voice as he touched Jessa’s hand. “Let go now.” Darry tipped into his arms as Jessa released her, and Etienne laid her down with great care. “Darry ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He looked up with a smile. “The path down that dark road is too rough for her in this condition, what with her dragging us all behind her.”
Jessa reached out and her hand trembled against his cheek. “Do not let her die, please.”
“No chance of that. She still owes me three silvers from our last game of Suns.”
Jessa let out a breath of laughter as her tears finally fell. “Let Hinsa touch her if she arrives before I come down. Do not keep her from Darry, or she won’t like it.”
Etienne’s eyebrows went up slightly as he pondered her words. “I wouldn’t want that.”
*
Darry felt sick as she climbed beside the scarred woman, and her limbs trembled. Her left arm had gone numb and she knew if they did not reach the top soon, she would fall to her death. She wondered if she would hear the laughter of dead holy men as she fell.
“Here, love,” the woman told her as she climbed ahead. “Right hand, just there.”
Darry obeyed. “You could at least sound tired.”
The woman chuckled and it was a rough, warm music that Darry found terribly familiar.
“Should I tell you of my people?”
“Yes,” Darry said in a tight voice as she pulled herself up several feet and hugged the cold stone. It felt good against the side of her face, and she wondered if she had a fever. Her head felt tight and oddly too large for her neck. It was not a comfortable feeling.
“I am of the Fox People, descended from the constellation of the Dog Stars.”
Shale slipped down the face of the cliff and Darry pulled her face away as it skittered past her. She found a better foothold and fought for it. “I don’t know…”
“Here,” the woman said and guided Darry’s hand to the next notch.
“Those stars,” Darry finished.
“People call it the Great Hunt, but it was never a hunt. It was a dance.”
Darry let her weight settle upon her toes and tried to breathe as she took a brief respite. She thought about what the scarred woman had said and then laughed, out of breath and nearly out of hope. “You’re right.”
“The Dog Stars are the stars of the Cha-Diah people.” The woman smiled down at Darry from above. “They are your people now, as well, for you are Hashiki’s descendant, and I am no longer the last of my kind.”
*
Jessa stood at the entrance to the maze and watched as Darry’s Boys rode toward her, bent low over their saddles as they thundered through a company of Kingsmen who dove out of their way. The watchtower bells still rang out and the barracks were lit from every window as men poured into the main courtyard. There were torches along the second and third levels of the Keep and men shouted in the distance.
She wore Radha’s shawl about the waist of her homespun skirt, and she pulled one of the threads of fringe from the weave. It wrapped about her wrist as she raised her arm into the air and then it turned to smoke, thick and black as it expanded outward, a funnel of darkness that spun with ever increasing force. The light within its path was sucked into its rotation and disappeared completely as the tempest grew in size, the wind that swirled upon its edges fierce and filled with noise.
Jessa was pushed back a step and her hair whi
pped about her face as Hinsa stepped close and wrapped her sleek body about Jessa’s legs. The panther’s scream lifted into the night and was caught instantly by the cyclone, her pain and discontent magnified a thousandfold. The sound raked along Jessa’s spine, and she wondered if Hinsa spoke for Darry, as well.
Men upon the balconies were thrown back and torches were extinguished. The Kingsmen in pursuit of Darry’s Boys turned back or fell to the ground as the dirt from the courtyard was swept up and rolled over them in a massive, heavy wave.
The funnel cloud parted near its base and Darry’s Boys rode through the opening as the two fingers of darkness separated up the middle and split apart. Now the tops of both clouds began to spread and the men upon the inner wall took cover as the stars above them were blotted out. One storm of darkness spun toward the barracks and the other swept into the Keep, shutters ripped from the balustrade and tossed into the night.
Jessa and Hinsa jumped aside as Darry’s Boys crashed into the maze, the ground churned up and spit out behind them as they tore through the entrance and kept going. Arkady wheeled his mount to the side as the others rode past him.
“Where is Bentley?” she demanded above the roar as he vaulted from his saddle and ran to her.
“I don’t know!”
“As soon as he gets here, I will close the maze around us.”
“You can do that?”
“Only if he gets here,” Jessa called out and pushed at his shoulder. “Go!”
Jessa turned back to the Keep and lifted her hands as she called forth the Hawk’s Eye spell, her sight rising above the storm and swooping toward the walls of Blackstone. She saw Jacob Durand struggling past the solar doors as he fought his way to the rail around the stones of the patio, his right hand lifted to shield his face from the wind.
Jessa shifted the thread of fringe within the center of the storm, and the torches closest to the solar were blown out by the huge blast of wind that followed. Jessa’s mind reached out as the funnel twisted and bent in the opposite direction. Malcolm has crossed the line, Jacob. Believe in us, my friend, and look for the Lark that bears my song!
The darkness spun along the stones and Jessa’s vision followed in its wake, skating about the northern edge of the residence and then cutting to the left.
Bentley Greeves swung his legs over the rail halfway down the balustrade stairs and leaped to the ground.
Jessa cursed and tried to shift the thread, but it was too late as Bentley hit the ground hard and dove forward into a roll that turned quickly into several. He stumbled and limped as he found his feet but he was on the run regardless, caught within the torrent of wind.
Jessa spun about and let her spells overlap, each one on top of the other as she held the separate runes with confidence.
Leaves burst outward from the hedgerows as she spoke the words that would ward the maze against all who sought to enter. Greenery caught within the wind and filled the air with life. The frenzy would not last long, she knew, but it would last long enough.
As the maze groaned and branches broke and snapped and grew anew, and the thick walls of foliage began to close around her, Bentley Greeves crashed through it all and sprawled at her feet.
*
Darry pulled herself over the edge and crawled forward, her lower body dragged behind her as if her legs had no power of their own.
“It’s all right, love,” the scarred woman said softly as she knelt. She laid a hand upon Darry’s shoulder. “We are at the top.”
Darry’s arms shook violently as she tried to push herself up, but she only succeeded in part as she rolled onto her back and stared into the sky. The woman sat beside her and crossed her legs, her soft buckskins surprisingly tidy despite the mountain of shale and dust that had rained down on them.
“When our people walked this land, the gods would ride the wind and play their games. Balls of lightning would tumble from their fingertips and race through the air.” She flicked her wrist and held her hand out. “They would knock each other from their gusty steeds as we would hide in the grass and watch.”
“What is my surprise?” Darry asked as her eyes closed.
The woman laughed happily and set a gentle hand upon Darry’s right arm. “Why did you climb this rock?”
Darry blinked into the brightness of the sky. “Because you told me to.”
“Is that what happened?”
Darry thought about it. “Well, not exactly.”
“You may sleep some, and then you may speak to your god if he is here.”
“I’m afraid,” Darry admitted as she began to drift.
The woman set her hand upon Darry’s forehead and then stroked her hair in a gentle manner. “The gods are close, but you needn’t fear. I won’t leave you.”
Darry tried to speak but could not.
“Yes,” the scarred woman answered softly. “I’ll be here when you wake.”
*
Jessa followed Hinsa as the panther moved quietly through the maze, a ball of witchlight connected to the great cat by a simple spell. It bobbed several feet above her head as she led the way, and the panther did not seem to mind.
Darry’s Boys followed behind them both as they led the horses, laden with supplies and weapons and Radha’s trunks, as well, all of it hauled along the twisted path by the soldiers and animals alike. Darry was carried gently in the massive arms of Jemin McNeely, their captain wrapped in the soft quilts from her own bed and seemingly oblivious to their journey. Tackle jingled as the hedgerows shifted around them in the odd light and flowers bloomed in their wake, and from time to time Jessa heard a startled curse as something moved within the greenery that could not be named.
The chaos of the courtyard could no longer be heard and their wild escape seemed oddly unreal as they traveled deeper into the maze. No one spoke of the fact that the maze was built within the gardens, and the gardens were contained within the walls of the palace.
After a dozen turns and a widening of the path that led them straight on for almost an hour, Blackstone Keep seemed gone altogether.
Chapter Twenty-three
Darry opened her eyes and she was wrapped in the warmth of several sheepskins, her vision filled with the deep orange-and-gold colors of a small fire. Cedar filled the air with its rich aroma.
Stars filled the skies and Darry let out a startled breath at how close they were.
“She is awake.” The scarred woman smiled as she poked a long stick into the fire. Ashes and sparks of flame rose into the night.
Darry pushed from the ground with her right hand as her left arm lay useless against her legs. She watched as the smoke and sparks from the fire danced above them. “There is no wind here.”
“The wind can make it hard to talk and it steals your words. Who is to say where they will land? In the ears of your enemies if you have no luck. The gods do not like what they say to find the wrong purpose.” The woman pulled her own sheepskin tighter about her shoulders. “You have a guest.”
Darry looked to the left.
The man was tall and spindly as he sat before their fire, his legs crossed and pulled close beneath his body as he stared back at her. His torn pants did not reach his ankles and his feet were bare and dark. He could not have weighed much at all, and Darry wondered when he had last eaten a decent meal, his tunic as ragged as his frayed trousers as it hung from his bone-thin shoulders. His hair was dark and utterly chaotic about his head, and he wore a wild beard that had most likely never been combed. His eyes were dark within the firelight, but the whites around them were bright with life.
“I know you, don’t I?” Darry asked, and though she did not know how, she knew it was true. She had seen him before.
“We met upon the stairs of Gamar’s Temple, many years ago.”
Darry smiled as the memory blossomed within her mind.
She had stood beside Cecelia within the crowd that had gathered as the beggars of Gamar had danced and whirled before the main entrance to the templ
e. They had all been terribly poor and thin, but they had danced to the drums with all the righteousness and vigor of men who wanted for nothing. It had been a harsh winter, and Alirra Bay had frozen over, though the beggars had danced in their bare feet upon the cold stone. Darry had held to her mother’s hand and watched.
The man leaned forward with a smile that showed his teeth. “I believe you need this back, little one,” he suggested and held out a coin.
The fire caught the heavy silver and burst within the night like a ruptured star.
Darry stared at the coin. “That was for my birthing day.”
“Yes,” he answered. “You were very insistent that I take it, for you did not want me to be cold. You said if it was not enough for shoes, you could lend me yours.”
Darry blinked at him and felt dizzy as his eyes seem to grow within his face. The stars from above were pulled within and Darry could see the constellations as they spun.
“And I told you I would keep it for you, until you had need of Gamar’s favor.”
“But you still need shoes,” Darry whispered and licked her lips. She was very thirsty.
Gamar’s beggar laughed happily and turned to the scarred woman. “You are right. She is as sweet as berry-pear pie.”
*
Jessa followed Hinsa into the clearing as the panther moved easily through the lush grass and bent clover. The witchlight hovered just beneath the high-up canopy of vines and branches, and Jessa’s whispered words pulled more energy from the hedgerow walls around them. The intensity of the light increased and painted the greenery in a deep shade of gold as Jessa quickened her pace.
The soft earth gave way to a floor of uneven stones, and Jessa stopped in surprise as her boots sounded out upon the new surface. She called out in a soft voice and Hinsa waited for her. The stones were set in a dark mortar that had long since cracked and had begun to crumble, and a thin layer of moss had grown in its place, a bond that made the stones an integral part of the maze.